Date: Thu, 18 Nov 1999 23:01:26 -0000
From: Gymnopedies
Subject: The Corps.6 Friends and Enemies
Disclaimer:
The following story may contains graphic descriptions of gay sex. If it is
illegal for you to view such material due to your age or location, or if
the material is likely to offend you in any way then please proceed no
further. The story also contains fictional representations of real people,
the key word here is FICTIONAL and the stories are in no way intended to
reflect or imply the sexual orientation or any other aspect of the
character or personality of any real person.
The Corps is a gay fantasy adventure featuring Taylor and Zac Hanson and
Prince William. This is part 6 of an ongoing story and is unlikely to make
much sense unless you have already read the preceeding parts. Earlier parts
are available at http://www.nifty.org or from my own website
http://members.tripod.com/~Gymnopedies.
Gymnopedies November 1999
corps_story@hotmail.com
The Corps 6: Friends and Enemies
Paul awoke to the feeling of cold stone against his back. He opened and
closed his eyes several times before he managed to convince himself that
his lack of vision was due to him being surrounded by complete darkness
rather than having been struck blind while he slept. He tried to
concentrate his mind through his thumping headache, picturing his room at
the Corps base in an effort to use his teleport ability, but it was
useless. For some reason his powers were not working; he felt helpless and
extremely vulnerable.
The fourteen year old cursed himself for his stupidity in rushing into a
situation that he knew could be dangerous. Now he was locked up,
frightened, powerless, and none of his friends had the remotest idea where
he was; hell, even he didn't know where he was.
The only consolation was that he was sure Mark was somewhere near by. He
wasn't sure how he knew, it was just a feeling, a faint hope to cling to so
that he would not fall completely into despair. Mark had to be nearby, it
was his trail that had brought the young teenager here.
On hearing of Mark's inexplicable disappearance, Paul had let go of reason
and given in to impulse, his one aim to locate his friend. Mark had been
depressed and moody ever since the incident with Dayle and Paul had been
afraid that the older teen had done something stupid. However, after
checking with security at the base entrance he found that Mark had not left
by that route. Since Mark's talents did not include teleportation, it meant
that someone else had to have been involved. Paul's next step had been to
check Mark's room. Whenever anyone teleported it left a faint trace behind,
like a trail, which was slow to disappear. It was possible, with some
effort, for another strong teleporter to detect and follow the trail. Sure
enough, Paul could just about make out such a trace in Mark's room. It was
very weak, and getting weaker all the time. The sensible thing to do would
be to have gone to get William or even Zac, someone with strong offensive
and defensive abilities, but without stopping to think, Paul had launched
himself along the trace and into serious trouble.
He had arrived in a large hall, lit by torches along the walls. Torches?
Even now he found it difficult to take in. It was almost as though he had
teleported backwards through time. Before he had chance to react he had
heard a surprised voice behind him, a woman's voice "What...?" As he tried
to turn around to see the source of the voice it was if the air had turned
solid around him. Suddenly he couldn't move, couldn't breathe. He tried to
struggle, but couldn't even make the smallest movement. His lungs started
to burn from lack of oxygen and his head began to spin. As he felt himself
blacking out he was still held upright, prevented from performing even the
involuntary movement of falling to the ground.
Well, at least he was still alive. Unless of course this was some sort of
weird afterlife. No, the pain in his head testified to the fact that he
hadn't yet joined the ranks of the deceased. Briefly, he considered trying
to move and find out more about his surroundings, but the cold wall behind
him and the floor beneath him were the only substantial things in this dark
universe and he was not about to relinquish either of them easily.
So, he sat for an indeterminate time, waiting. Someone was bound to come
for him eventually. If they had wanted him dead they could have already had
their wish. As he waited he tried to keep his mind blank, knowing that the
most dangerous thing he had to face at the moment was his own imagination,
the fear of the unknown.
Eventually his patience was rewarded. The sound of footsteps was followed
by a key rattling in a lock. A door opened and the room was bathed in white
agony. Paul threw his arms around his head trying to keep out the blinding
light that was driving nails of pain through his eyeballs. Almost
immediately the pain began to subside, but before he had become properly
used to it he felt a hand on his arm and was dragged to his feet.
"C'mon boy, get up."
"Uh..." Managing to open his eyelids a crack, Paul was able to make out the
man in front of him. A handsome face, probably in his early twenties, not
unkind looking but at the same time wearing an expression that said he
would not stand any nonsense. With a gasp, Paul saw that the only garments
the man wore were a pair of very tight leather shorts and sandals on his
feet. His well-proportioned chest and limbs had a golden lustre, almost as
if they had been oiled.
"Close your mouth and hurry up boy, the mistress is waiting and if she gets
impatient it will be me who suffers as well as you." Without waiting for a
response the man dragged the confused teen through the door.
The old man stood at the foot of the bed looking down at the sleeping
youth. Pain and regret were written across his old features as he wished he
could somehow avoid the task he was here to perform. But duty was far more
important than personal feelings. In truth he could have let one of his
fellow sentinels perform the deed, there were those amongst them who could
take a life as though it was of entirely no consequence, but he felt he had
a responsibility to take care of this matter himself.
The easiest way, and perhaps the kindest way, would be to get it over with
while the boy was sleeping. But sometimes the easiest way was not the right
way. He felt he owed the boy at least this much; to let him see the face of
the person who was going to take his life from him and hopefully to
understand that this was something that had to be done, that there was no
other way.
Silently he watched the boy's chest gently rise and fall with each breath,
the skin so pale and smooth it was almost translucent. The boy's face
looked so incredibly peaceful and, yes, innocent. The innocence of
youth. The old man sighed softly, innocence was such a poor guardian. He
shook his head, annoyed with himself. "Enough musings you senile old fool,"
he muttered. "Get on with it."
Gently he reached out his hand and touched the boy's chest with his
fingertips. The touch was only feather light but the tiny spark of power
that accompanied the touch was enough to bring the youth to
wakefulness. For a moment there was confusion in the boy's eyes. Confusion
gave way to understanding, understanding to fear and finally fear was
replaced by resignation.
"Karl, I knew you'd come eventually."
"It could have been one of the others."
"No, I know you too well. This is something you would have to do yourself."
In spite of his sadness, the old man smiled. "You were always perceptive
Dayle, you understand people well. You would have made a very good
sentinel." He paused, considering his next words carefully. "You were to
have been my replacement."
Dayle blinked in surprise. "But I thought Thomas..."
"Thomas has more experience than you, but he's impulsive and ambitious, not
ideal qualities when considering the huge amounts of power involved. It
will be a long time before Thomas is ready to be a full sentinel."
"It wouldn't have made any difference you know." Dayle looked Karl straight
in the eyes. "Even if I'd known that before, I would still have given it
all up and come back."
Karl nodded his head slowly. "It wasn't fair of us asking you to give up so
much. Love is perhaps the one force more powerful than a sentinel. I know
how difficult the decision was for you, Dayle. Many years ago when I became
a sentinel I had to face the same choices." Dayle said nothing, waiting for
his old friend to continue. "Her name was Miranda. I was 18, she was 17, we
loved each other so much that we thought nothing in the world could come
between us. Then I was selected by the sentinels and I had to choose
between her and the promise of power. To this day I still wonder if I made
the right choice. If it helps Dayle, I believe you are a braver person than
me, braver and stronger. You do understand why I'm here don't you?"
"I understand. I broke my promise to the sentinels and now you have to take
back the powers you gave to me."
"You realise that you will go back to exactly the state you were in when
the powers were given? Completely drained of life energy you'll lose
consciousness immediately, it will all be over within a few minutes"
"I know. I don't regret my decision, but there is one thing," tears
appeared in Dayle's eyes. "I broke my promise and came back so that I could
at least spend a short time with Mark and ask his forgiveness for what I
did to him. Now Mark has disappeared and I can't even be sure he is
alive. I know I've no right to ask, but will you do me one last favour?
Tell me that Mark is safe."
Karl nodded and his eyes became unfocussed and distant. Seconds later he
was back to normal, but he didn't look happy. "Mark is safe."
"What's wrong? There's something else isn't there?"
"Please Dayle, just accept that for the moment Mark is safe I can't tell
you anything else except for one thing. As far as he is concerned there is
nothing to forgive you for. Your disappearance confused him and hurt him,
but he doesn't hate you for it. He still loves you very much." Karl took a
long breath. "It's time to do what I came here for." He reached out his
hand towards the young teens face. "I'm sorry Dayle, I wish there were some
other way."
"I know, Karl. Do what you have to do. If you ever see Mark, tell him I'm
sorry and that I never stopped loving him."
Very gently, Karl touched his fingertips to Dayle's forehead. For a split
second it was as if a massive electric current passed through the
teenager's body as every muscle tensed and his back arched. Then he went
completely limp as his eyes closed and he fell back onto the bed.
The old man stood back, watching the prone body before him, at look of
anguish on his face at what he had just been forced to do. "This isn't
right," he muttered to himself. "There has to be another way." Suddenly a
sly smile appeared on his lips. He passed his hand above the bed and the
whole area became blurred and indistinct as if looking down through
water. "Oh, Karl. You always were too sentimental for your own good. You're
going to end up in trouble over this one."
A split second later he had vanished leaving just the empty room and the
hazy outline of a still teenager lying on a bed.
Taylor had been awake for ages but he had stayed where he was so as not to
disturb the sleeping form beside him. The problem was, he was getting
bored, and worse than that, a certain organ attached to the lower half of
his body was demanding urgent attention. He stroked firmly up and down his
rigid shaft a couple of times, imagining that his fingers were actually a
pair of lips belonging to a handsome young prince who was sleeping,
oblivious, mere inches away. There was a strong temptation to continue the
stroking to its obvious conclusion, but he put down that thought in the
certain knowledge that with a bit of patience his "blow job" fantasy would
become reality. He briefly considered going to check on Tristan, who was
sleeping in the adjoining room. The boy had still not awakened since Taylor
and William had combined their powers to heal him the previous day. Taylor
wasn't particularly concerned by the length of time that Tristan had been
asleep, after all, a near death experience did tend to be a little tiring,
as Taylor well knew from first hand experience.
"Blow this!" he muttered, his impatience getting the better of him, then
realising that he still had a firm grip of his erection he grinned at his
own accidental joke. Very slowly he climbed out of bed and stood at the
side, stretching the sleep from his lithe body. As he moved, his hard shaft
bobbed slightly from side to side as if to remind its owner that it wasn't
going to go away until it had been seen to. Again Taylor resisted the urge
to jack off and instead decided it was time he did something to stir things
up a bit.. Gently he took hold of the sheet and peeled it back. Gradually,
inch by beautiful inch, the prince's naked body came into view.
A very short time ago Taylor had been for all practical purposes a virgin,
the only sexual contact with other males being in his own imagination. How
things had changed. For several long seconds he stared at the young god on
the bed, marvelling at every glorious curve. As far as Taylor was
concerned, William had the perfect body; toned from taking part in sport
but not artificially pumped up from too much "working out". The skin was
maybe a little pale, but nothing a few days naked under a gentle sun would
not put right. In comparison, the young singer considered his own body thin
and underdeveloped. Sure, as far as thousands of girls, and also a good
number of boys, were concerned he was sex on legs, but in truth he had
never considered himself to be particularly good looking. It gave him a
warm feeling inside to know that William not only found him attractive but
had fallen totally in love with him; not with Taylor Hanson the star, but
with the real Taylor Hanson.
William was asleep on his side, his lower leg raised slightly and bent at
the knee, allowing his balls to rest gently on his inner thigh, the seven
inches of his morning erection pointing up towards his chin. His only
movements were the small rise and of his chest and an occasional flicker of
his eyelids.
Unable to resist, Taylor reached out his finger and slowly traced it along
the full length of the prince's hard rod, delighting in watching it give
small jerks as he approached the tip. He repeated this several times, each
time moving from base to swollen head and each time he was rewarded with
the same involuntary spasms. "Time to wake the sleeping beauty," he said,
softly. Taking the rigid shaft in his fist he bent and kissed William
lightly on the lips.
"Oh, Carol, you know I love you. Give me another few minutes and then we
can do it as many times as you want." The words were slurred from sleep but
their meaning was clear enough, as was the name "Carol". Taylor let go of
the prince's shaft, uncertain now, unsure of how to proceed. Who was Carol?
Was William really interested in girls after all? Before his thoughts could
go any further along those lines he noticed a slight twitching at the
corners of William's mouth. Grabbing a foam pillow he brought it down
swiftly on the prince's head, but not swiftly enough to drown out the sound
of William spluttering because he couldn't hold back the laughter any
longer.
"I suppose you think that's funny," said Taylor, indignant. "Well see if
you think this is funny." He firmly held the pillow over William's face
while he climbed onto the bed and forcing the teen onto his back, he sat
astride his chest. Only when he was securely in place did he remove the
pillow. The first sight that met William's eyes as he opened them was
Taylor's hard six inches pointing up over his face.
"Erm, is this your idea of breakfast in bed?" asked William. "You Americans
certainly do things differently."
"At least we're taught not to speak with out mouth's full."
"But I haven't got my mouth full," William protested.
"That's easily put right." Taylor pressed down on the back of his shaft,
forcing the head to rub against William's lips.
William didn't need any further coaxing, eagerly opening mouth to accept
the proffered "breakfast".
Taylor's head went back and his eyes closed giving himself over completely
to the feeling of his lover's lips around his sensitive organ. A few
minutes earlier he had been fantasising about it and now it was actually
happening. He leaned forwards so as to allow even more of his hard tool to
enter William's mouth. William's hands appeared to be everywhere at once,
stroking Taylor's shaft, gently squeezing and pulling on his balls, running
up and down his smooth torso. The young singer was unable to hold back a
groan as William's hand slid down his back and parting his smooth cheeks
pressed a finger firmly against his puckered anus. "Push it in me," Taylor
gasped.
William tried to oblige, but as he pressed harder he could sense Taylor
tensing up from the discomfort of having a dry finger forced into his tight
hole. Not wanting to cause his lover any pain he moved his hand to the tip
of his own swollen cock which was leaking large amounts or precum and
rolled his finger around in the slimy fluid before returning it to Taylor's
rear. This time the lubricated finger slipped inside much more easily and
the prince was rewarded with a loud gasp and an involuntary jerk from the
organ in his mouth as his questing fingertip came into contact with the
boy's prostate. Using his unoccupied hand, William wrapped his fingers
around the base of Taylor's erection and pulled the stiff rod out of his
mouth. He slowly moved his hand up the pulsing shaft and began to massage
the engorged head using a rolling motion with his palm and fingers at the
same time going to work on the boy's balls with his lips and tongue.
By this time Taylor's upper torso was rocking backwards and forwards, his
breath coming in gasps. His back was arched and his fingers clenched
tightly together behind his head as he felt the familiar tingling feeling
begin to build in the area around his groin and then, like a flower, open
up and spread the sensations of ultimate pleasure to every inch of his
aroused body. His rocking became more erratic and out of control and the
gasping turned into groans of ecstasy. The tingling became a burning fire
setting his nerve endings alight. "Aaaaaargh...", the muted scream forced
it's way through his clenched teeth and he thrust his hips forwards as long
streamers of white cum erupted from his jerking erection.
The fires of passion were quickly replaced by the cool waters of relaxed
satisfaction. Taylor pushed a strand of sweat drenched hair out of eyes and
gazed down adoringly at the person he loved more than anyone else, sending
William a mental kiss. "Did anyone ever tell you you're a messy eater?" He
was unable to hold back a grin as he looked at the gobs on sticky cum,
mostly on William's hand but one or two having made it through to his
face. He bent and licked a spot of the sweet liquid off the prince's
chin. "William...?" he said, in a soft, serious voice.
"Yeah?"
"You can take your finger out of my butt now if you like." Taylor tried to
keep his face straight but it was no good. The laughter escaped in a
splutter and was almost immediately out of control. William joined in and
the two boys rolled naked on the bed in fits of hysterical giggling.
After a couple of minutes of minutes of this, William managed to pull
himself together a little. "My stomach hurts from laughing," he complained,
wiping his eyes. Taylor stopped laughing, a look of intense sympathy on his
face which he managed to maintain for all of three seconds before hysteria
once again set in.
Gradually the pair of them calmed down and the laughter receded. The room
became quiet. They lay together in each other's arms, not speaking, not
even thinking, each enjoying the feel of the other's body pressed close,
wanting the moment to last forever.
Taylor turned his head and looked deeply into William's eyes. "I love you."
The simple statement, spoken softly, conveyed such an intensity of feeling
that it took William's breath away. For a moment he was unable to reply,
only to hug this special boy tightly to him. "And I love you," he said,
eventually. "I love you more than you can ever know."
Once again they made eye contact. Further words weren't needed. Mental
communication wasn't needed. Their eyes said it all; total and unreserved
commitment to each other. Slowly their heads came together, their lips
touched. There was no passion in the kiss, this wasn't a moment for
passion, it was a moment for something far stronger and far more
sustaining. Love. A love so deep it swallowed up all thought. A love so
powerful it overwhelmed the senses. The kiss was act of union, a bringing
together of two souls and making them one.
Eventually, after an eternity, the kiss ended, but still neither boy felt
the need to speak. Everything that needed to be said had been said, even if
not in words.
As Taylor lay in William's arms, happier than he could ever remember being,
he allowed his fingers to trail across the prince's broad chest, stopping
to tease the few hairs that sprouted around one of the nipples. He wriggled
down until he could reach the nipple with his tongue and licked all the way
around it before flicking at the brown nub.
William's only response was a slight unevenness in his breathing. He lay
with his eyes closed as if asleep, though Taylor knew better. It was really
a gesture of complete trust and acquiescence. A statement that his body was
Taylor's to do with as he wished.
As Taylor worked on the nipple with his tongue he lightly caressed the
velvety skin of the prince's chest with his fingers, moving in tiny
circles, hardly making contact. Each circle was a little lower down than
the last, gradually working his way down the boy's body. He noted with a
smile that William's penis, which had been flaccid and laid across his
thigh was beginning to twitch. Taylor was now running his fingers through
the coarse growth of William's pubic hair, brushing against the base of the
rapidly hardening member. The touch of Taylor's finger running from base to
tip was all it took to bring it to full attention.
Stopping what he was doing, Taylor got up and moved around to the base of
the bed, where he crouched between William's legs. This caused William to
open his eyes to see what Taylor was doing, when he saw the boy's new
position a smile came to his lips, he knew what was coming next. Instead of
closing his eyes again he watched eagerly as the whole of his hard 7 inches
disappeared into Taylor's mouth.
Taylor began to build up a steady rhythm, pulling up until just the tip of
William's erection was between his lips, before thrusting his head forwards
again and taking the engorged weapon into his throat. At the same time he
was using both his hands to massage Williams balls. It wasn't long before
William's hips began to buck in time to the rhythm and his breathing became
more erratic. Taylor redoubled his efforts, determined to give his friend
an orgasm to remember.
"What the hell...!" William's sudden exclamation would have been shock
enough for Taylor, but the surprise the young prince had just received
caused him to thrust his hips violently upwards, nearly ramming Taylor's
tonsils down his throat and causing him to gag.
Immediately William realised what he had done and his first thought was for
Taylor who was coughing and spluttering, "Oh god, Taylor I'm sorry, are you
OK?" Though Taylor noticed through watering eyes that even while he was
talking, William's eyes were focussed on something behind Taylor's back.
"My apologies. It appears I've caught you at a rather inconvenient moment,"
said a dry voice.
With a sigh, Nathan snuggled further down into the bedclothes. He knew he
should be getting up, but kept telling himself he would just have a few
more minutes. Zac, with whom he had shared the bed for the night, had been
gone for ages, the irrepressible twelve year old had arranged to meet Chris
and Josh at the swimming pool. Nathan had been invited but had used the
excuse that he was still tired from the fun and games of the night
before. The real reason that Nathan didn't want to get up was that he was
happy. It was an emotion he hadn't had much experience with and he was
afraid that if he moved, the feeling may somehow evaporate; he was
determined to hold onto it as long as he possibly could. Even the darkness
of the room was somehow comforting, it made him feel that the only thing
that existed was the present, the future didn't matter and the past, well,
that was best left where it was. Just for a moment an image of his
stepfather entered his young mind, the man looking angry as usual and more
than a little the worse for drink as he swung his belt threateningly from
his hand. Nathan quickly pushed the image away, those days were gone and he
wasn't going to let the memory of them spoil his present mood.
He considered using his new found telepathic ability to talk to Taylor, but
grinning to himself he decided that since Taylor was with William, there
was a very good chance his friend may be busy with other things and may not
appreciate the interruption. Instead he turned his thoughts to Zac. Zac had
been a complete surprise. The younger Hanson gave the impression that he
was totally carefree, taking life as it comes and just enjoying every
moment. Nathan now knew this wasn't entirely the case. Last night he had
seen a different side to Zac, one the youngster tried to keep hidden. It
couldn't be denied that Zac was certainly hyperactive and boisterous, but
underneath that he was considerate and caring and even sweet. Nathan let
out a short giggle as he imagined Zac's reaction to being called
sweet. Their sex games had started off as fun, the four boys together,
rolling together, laughing together, grabbing at each others
bodies. Afterwards, they had paired up and gone into separate rooms. That
was when Zac had revealed his gentler side. Now the sex was much slower as
Zac realised that this was mostly new to Nathan and adjusted the pace so as
to bring the most pleasure to the younger boy. There had still been a
certain amount of laughing and joking, that was part of Zac's charm, but
there were also moments of tenderness and shared feelings as Zac set aside
his bravado and revealed his more vulnerable side. This morning Zac's mask
had been back in place and he had made Nathan promise, amid numerous
exaggerated threats, not to say anything that would ruin his "free and
easy" reputation.
Nathan had just made up his mind that he would send a mental message to
Zac, when there was a noise in the room. It was only a slight noise, but
enough to let Nathan know that he was no longer alone.
"Zac? Is that you?"
There was no reply.
"Zac? C'mon, quit messing around." The friendly atmosphere that the
darkness had possessed mere moments before had changed to something ominous
and oppressive.
"Zac? Please, it isn't funny."
Suddenly there was a light. Nathan screwed his eyes tight shut, blinded by
the abrupt change from complete darkness. He gave a small cry as someone
grabbed his arm and something sharp pricked through his skin. He was about
to send a mental cry for help, but for some reason it didn't seem that
important anymore. The fear left him and was replaced by a feeling of
drowsy euphoria. Gradually his eyes became used to the light and he was
able to make out a figure towering over him.
"Brian? What are you doing here?" His words were a little slurred and his
tongue felt too thick for his mouth.
Brian sat down on the edge of the bed, laying the syringe he had been
holding on the bedside cabinet. "We have some unfinished business,
remember?" He took hold of the top of the blanket and pulled it away, his
eyes widening slightly with lust as the naked youngster was completely
revealed.
A small part of Nathan's mind was screaming that something wasn't right,
that he should be doing something, trying to get away. But that small part
was overruled by the larger part which said everything was fine, no need to
make a fuss.
"We're going to have some fun together, the two of us. You'll like that,
won't you?" Brian's voice trembled slightly with nervous anticipation. "Not
that it matters whether you like it or not. In fact, when the drug wears
off you'll probably be most unhappy with the whole idea, but don't worry, I
won't let that spoil my enjoyment. I helped the mistress get her new
playmate and so it's only right I should have one of my own. Last time your
friends came between us. This time, my little toy, we are going somewhere
where your friends won't be able to interfere. He wrapped the blanket
around Nathan's slim body, picked up the boy from the bed and a split
second later the room was empty.
William focussed his concentration, ready to make use of his energy
manipulation abilities at a moments notice. At first glance the old man
didn't look particularly dangerous, but he had just appeared out of thin
air so he must have some sort of powers. The prince wasn't about to take
any chances.
"Who are you and what do you want?" William surprised himself with how calm
and under control he felt in spite of the shock he had just received; it
wasn't every day that a stranger materialises in front of you while you
have your cock down your lover's throat.
"It's not important who I am," the old man replied, suppressing a
smile. "As to what want, I have come to ask for you help."
"Don't they have doors where you come from?" William asked, a little
sarcastically.
"I am sorry young prince, you are right, the manner of my arrival was most
improper. Please forgive me. My only excuse is that my mind was occupied
with other matters."
Taylor had just about managed to regain his composure. He got to his feet
and faced the man, seemingly oblivious to his own nudity. "You said you
needed our help."
Just like Taylor, William thought to himself. He'd just been interrupted in
the middle of one of the most personal acts that anyone could perform, he
was naked, with his half hard penis pointing out in front of him and with
the sweat of making love still glistening on his body and all he could
think about was helping someone. "CAREFUL TAYLOR, WE DON'T KNOW ANYTHING
ABOUT HIM. DON'T GET IN FRONT OF ME, I'LL NEED A CLEAR SPACE IF HE TRIES
ANYTHING."
"IF HE WANTED TO HURT US HE WOULD HAVE DONE IT WHILE WE WERE BUSY. LET'S
FIND OUT WHAT HE WANTS."
"OK, BUT IT DOESN'T HURT TO BE CAREFUL."
"Yes, Taylor, I need your help, or rather I should say one of your friends
need of your help, your healing skills in particular."
Taylor became suddenly agitated. "What? Who? If one of our friends is in
trouble you'd better take us to him? Is it Mark?"
"Slow down my young friend," the man said, calmly. "Whilst I do not have
your healing abilities, I'm not without some talents of my own and I have
used these to reduce the urgency of the situation." He paused and looked
thoughtful a second before turning towards the door of the adjoining room
in which Tristan was sleeping. He began moving in that direction..
"Where are you going?" Taylor cried, "Don't go in there."
"I KNEW WE COULDN'T TRUST HIM." William drew warmth from the room and
converted it into electricity, concentrating it into the door handle.
As the man touched the door handle there was a loud crack as the
electricity discharged, but the stranger gave no visible sign that he had
even noticed. However, once the door was opened and the sleeping boy was
visible, the man didn't enter the room, he merely stood looking. "So this
is the boy that Thomas took it upon himself acquire." He frowned deeply and
turned back to Taylor. "You don't have a slightest idea what you have
created, do you?"
"We know that because of the powers we used to save his life, he will now
have some powers of his own," Taylor replied, defensively.
"You foolish children," the man shook his head. "Even a little power can be
dangerous in the wrong hands. I have lived a very long time, but in all of
that time I have never seen so much potential power concentrated in one
individual. It he were to misuse it the consequences would be unthinkable."
He sighed a was silent for a few moments, deep in thought. "I have a sworn
duty to eliminate any such risk."
"No!" Taylor pushed passed the man placed himself in front of
Tristan. "You'll have to go through me before I'll let you hurt him."
"If you even think about hurting either of them I'll burn you were you
stand." William spoke through gritted teeth, his anger at the thought of
Taylor being harmed was barely held in check.
Suddenly it was as if the harmless old man disappeared and someone else now
stood in his place. Outwardly he looked exactly the same, but now he gave
off a palpable aura of menace as power oozed from every pore of his
body. "Do you imagine that your feeble threats mean anything to me Prince
William?" Even his voice had changed, all softness had gone to be replaced
by fire and ice. "Your puny talents are not even worthy of consideration."
He raised his hand and blue sparks of pure energy danced around his
fingertips.
With a wordless cry, William focussed every fibre of his being into the
sole task of gathering energy of whatever type he could find. The room was
plunged into darkness of the bulbs in the ceiling shattered in a shower of
glass fragments and electrical sparks. The temperature went from
comfortable to icy cold as the heat was sucked out of the air. All through
the base the lighting flickered on and off as the generators struggled to
cope with the sudden enormous demand. The prince felt the building energies
as a tingling in his nerve endings, the tingling became a burning and the
burning was replaced by white hot searing pain. Still he continued drawing
energy into himself, the pain was unbearable, he wanted to scream but his
vocal cords were paralysed, his heart threatened to burst from his chest it
was pounding so hard. With a blinding flash of light, he released the
bundled energy in one short powerful burst. His single minded aim was to
remove the threat to Taylor. The enormous blast of raw energy unleashed,
hurtled unerringly towards it's target, it's impact causing a deafening
roar like the mother of all storms.
For a moment there was complete blackness, no light, no sound, no
movement. Then room became lit by a soft eerie glow that slowly grew in
strength. Astonished, William saw that the glow was actually emanating from
the figure of the old man who still stood in the doorway unaffected by the
tidal wave of energy that had just swept over him.
With eyes flashing fire, the man flicked his fingers. William was picked up
bodily by some unseen force and thrown across the room, landing heavily on
the bed. All the air left his lungs in a rush leaving him temporarily
disabled.
"WILLIAM!" Taylor completely lost control and launched himself towards the
stranger, who had his back to him. Bracing himself for the impact, Taylor
cried out in fear and surprise as he passed completely through the man's
body as if it didn't even exist, his own momentum sending him sprawling
across the floor.
In desperation William once again tried to draw energy to himself, even as
he fought to regain his breath. He realised that they were hopelessly
outmatched, that this man possessed powers they could hardly dream of, but
there was no way he was giving in without a fight. He braced himself to
release another blast, not so powerful as the first but it was the best he
was capable of.
"Enough!" The roar of the man's voice belied his apparent age and frailty.
In spite of all his efforts, William's accumulated energies dissipated back
into the room leaving him completely defenceless.
"Enough games." The man's voice was softer this time, the aura of menace
was gone. The gentle old man was back. "Do not worry. I have no intention
of harming your young friend, my instincts tell me not to, even if it does
go against my duties and responsibilities. Breaking the rules seems to be
getting a habit with me today," he added, cryptically. "Regard the last few
moments as a lesson. You should now have just a small idea of the amount of
power I have at my control. Consider the fact that this boy has potential
even greater than my own. He is an unknown quantity. He could use his power
for good or for evil. If he chooses the latter, who is there that is able
to stand in his way?"
"But he's just a boy." Taylor's voice had a pleading quality.
"A boy with the power to shake the world to it's foundations." For a long
moment the man glared at them. Then his tone lightened. "That is a problem
for another day." He frowned and glanced around the room at the damage that
had occurred during their struggle, before making a dramatic sweeping
gesture with his arm. Instantly the scorch marks disappeared from the walls
and door frame and even the light was somehow working again. "For today, as
I said earlier, one of your friends needs your help. Are you willing to
help him?"
William jumped in before Taylor had a chance to answer. "You've shown us
that we're no match for you, so why do you need our help?"
"Because, as I have already explained, your friend is in need of healing, a
skill I unfortunately do not possess."
"Who is it that needs healing?" asked Taylor.
"His name is Dayle."
Taylor looked surprised. "What's wrong with Dayle? He was fine when we saw
him last night."
"I'll let Dayle give you the details after you've healed him." The man was
beginning to look impatient. "That is, if he ever gets healed. And that
certainly won't happen while we are stood around here talking.
William was still suspicious and was about to give voice to those
suspicions, but this time Taylor got in there first. "I'll help. Will you
take me to him?
"YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE WITHOUT ME." William's mental voice sounded in
Taylor's head.
"THERE'S NO REASON FOR YOU TO GO. IF ANYTHING GOES WRONG AT LEAST YOU'LL BE
SAFE HERE."
"IF SOMETHING DOES GO WRONG I WANT TO BE THERE TO HELP, NOT STUCK HERE
WORRYING ABOUT YOU OFF ALONE SOMEWHERE WITH A STRANGE OLD MAN."
"When the two of you have finished arguing perhaps we can get on." The
man's face had an expression of frustration. "And I'll have you know,
William, that I do not appreciate being referred to as a strange old man."
William blushed. "I didn't think you could hear us."
"Obviously," the man muttered. "Now when you've made up your minds who is
going it may be an idea if you were to put on some clothing."
The two teens, reminded of their nudity, hurried to pull on some shorts.
"He is only down the corridor, but we will attract less attention if I take
you there directly." Before either of William or Taylor had chance to
protest their surroundings had changed and they were now in a different
room. Obviously the man had teleportation abilities far superior to Paul's
since no physical contact had been necessary.
Immediately Taylor made towards the unmoving but slightly indistinct figure
on the bed.
"Wait a moment," the man warned. "I have surrounded him with a temporal
field which slows down time. When I remove the field we will have to act
fairly quickly. Are you ready for this Taylor?"
Taylor swallowed nervously but nodded. With a gesture from the man, the
field disappeared and Taylor hurried forwards, laying his palm flat on
Dayle's chest. Instantly he pulled it away.
"I can't do it. He's too far gone and I don't have the strength." Taylor
turned to William and held out his hand. "You are going to have to help me
with this."
"No!" The shout from the man took them both by surprise. "Think of the boy
we have just left behind."
"But there's no other way. I'm just not strong enough on my own and if we
don't do something quickly he's going to die." Taylor was getting visibly
distraught at the thought that he might not be able to do anything after
all.
"There is a way." The man looked at Taylor calmly. "But you will have to
trust me. I can enter your mind and take control of your power, augmenting
it with my own. I can control the flow so that he receives just the energy
he needs without the extra that would cause the problems."
"Do it." Taylor's firm reply came before William had a chance to
intercede. The man nodded and placed his hand on Taylor's shoulder as
Taylor replaced his own hand on Dayle's chest.
William could only watch helplessly and pray that Taylor wasn't making an
awful mistake. Long moments passed and the prince realised he was holding
his breath. There was no movement from either Taylor or the old
man. William was frantic with worry and just about to interrupt and pull
them apart when Taylor drew in a long shuddering breath and stepped back,
his shoulders slumping from weariness.
Taking hold of his friend, William gave him a fierce hug. "I wish you
wouldn't scare me like that."
"I'm fine," Taylor replied. "Or at least I will be when I get my strength
back."
The man was just concluding a quick examination of Dayle. He turned to
Taylor. "You're a very special and courageous person Taylor Hanson. You
have my deepest thanks for helping a young man who is very dear to me. For
reasons I cannot easily explain I think it is better that I go before he
awakes. When he does awaken I would like you to give him a message. Tell
him that in order to find the one for whom he seeks he must first find
Circe. I wish him all the luck in the world for his quest because I fear he
is going to need it."
"I'll give him the message," said Taylor. "I wish you would tell us who you
are."
The man smiled. "Dayle can tell you about me if he so wishes. Tell him that
all promises are cancelled, all debts repaid. He can feel free to share any
information he sees fit with friends who would help him in his
quest. Goodbye my friends." He gave a small gesture and where he had been
standing only empty space remained.
On the bed Dayle was already beginning to stir. He gave a groan and his
hand went to his head.
"He can't be waking up yet surely," said William, surprise in his
voice. "Anyone you heal is normally out for hours, if not days."
"It was different this time," Taylor replied. "I never realised that it was
possible to have such a fine control over the power. We fed the energy into
him in a steady stream rather than pouring it all in as fast as possible
like I've always done in the past. This way, he received just the amount of
energy he needed in order to be healed. The body can only absorb so much
energy at once, if it goes in any faster, the extra energy affects the body
in some way, creating powers. That's what must have happened to Nathan and
Tristan. Now that I know how to control the flows I think I can prevent
problems like that arising in the future." He brushed a lock of hair away
from Dayle's face, as the boy opened his eyes.
For a moment Dayle looked confused, then he smiled weakly. "I feel like
shit," he muttered, "but at least I'm still here. I should be dead. What
happened?"
"We had a visit from some old guy..." Taylor began to explain.
"Karl!" Dayle's smile widened into a grin. "I should have known he would
find a way around it,"
"So, at least we now know his name," said William. "He refused to tell us
even that much, even though he appeared to know who we were. Care to tell
us anything else about your mysterious friend?"
Dayle was about to speak but hesitated.
"Before he went he said something about all promises cancelled and all
debts repaid," Taylor broke in. "He said you could tell us anything you saw
fit."
Dayle gave a nod of understanding. "I'll tell you a little, though there
are some things that I can't tell and even more that I don't know
myself. Karl is a Sentinel. He is one of twelve. Even though I worked for
them for a time I don't know very much about them apart from the fact that
they have immense power. Their main purpose seems to be to protect the
world and they can be ruthless in that task, removing an individual without
a second thought if they believe it's for the greater good. That said, as
long as they stay within the oaths they have sworn, they are free to do
whatever they want, be it good or bad. I'm lucky that it was Karl who came
to take back their gift to me. Any of the others and I would almost
certainly have been left to die."
"What do you mean about taking back their gift?" asked Taylor
Dayle explained how as he lay dying in the FBI laboratory he had been
rescued by Thomas. The sentinels had given him powers in exchange for
certain promises and it was these powers that kept him alive since the one
power denied to the sentinels was healing. By returning to the Corps he had
broken one of the promises and so the sentinels were entitled to take back
their gift.
"Karl seems to think a lot about you," said Taylor. "Did you and he
ever...? You know...?"
"It wasn't like that," said Dayle, with a fond smile. "Karl was very kind
to me and in a way he became a good friend. I don't think Karl ever even
thought of me in that way. If I'd been a girl it might have been
different."
"But I thought it was part of having the power," said William. "Mark told
me that everyone with the power is like us."
"The source on the Sentinels' power is different. There are both men and
women amongst the Sentinels, but there are only ever twelve at a
time. Their powers let them live much longer than we do, but eventually
they pass their power onto someone else. The new person then takes the old
one's place and becomes a Sentinel himself."
"Well, if what he showed us is anything to go by, Karl is certainly a force
to be reckoned with." Taylor went to explain what had happened when Karl
had appeared in their room and about the brief battle that had taken place
between William and the old man.
Dayle listened, slightly amused. "He was only playing with you. If he had
been serious you wouldn't have lived through the first few seconds. At
least he didn't hurt Tristan." He gave a puzzled frown. "I wonder what he
meant about his instincts telling him not to harm the boy." Dayle's
expression then turned sad. "I wish Karl had been able to tell me more
about Mark. All he would tell me is that Mark isn't in any immediate
danger."
"He left a message for you." Taylor took Dayle's hand in his own. Somehow
he knew that what he was about to say would not bring any comfort. "He said
that to find the one you are looking for you should first find Circe."
Taylor watched as Dayle's face, pale to begin with, turned a deathly white.
"No, please God, not Circe."
Taylor squeezed the teen's hand. "Karl told you Mark wasn't in any
danger. You know you can count on us to help you. Between us we'll find him
and bring him back."
Dayle's eyes were like black pits, devoid of all life and hope. "You don't
understand Taylor. If he's with Circe he won't be coming back. Circe is a
Sentinel. I've lost him forever."
Paul transferred his weight from one foot to the other. He felt like he had
been waiting for hours, his back ached and his legs felt numb. Even this
small action earned him a hiss of disapproval from his guard.
"Stand still! If the mistress sees you shuffling around she'll be angry,
and neither of us wants to be around when she gets angry." The young man
remained motionless, the words coming as a snarl from the corner of his
mouth.
The "mistress" was seated in a chair on a raised platform at the other end
of the large hall. She was engaged in discussion with a young man who could
have been the twin brother of the one guarding Paul, a discussion that
showed no sign of coming to an end.
Resigned to his discomfort, Paul cast his eyes around the hall looking for
something to relieve the strange mix of fear and boredom which afflicted
his mind. The hall could have been straight out of a medieval story; the
young teen wouldn't have been surprised at the appearance of knights in
full armour. There were no windows, all the light being provided by torches
hanging in brackets at regular intervals around the walls. Between the
torches were tapestries depicting scenes from bloody battles, the emphasis
definitely being on "bloody". The smoke from the torches rose up towards
the high vaulted ceiling and, strangely, seemed to disappear leaving the
leaving the air clean and fresh in spite of the apparent lack of
ventilation. Another thing which occurred to Paul at this point was that
the lighting in the hall was far better than would be obtained from just
torches alone, though there was no other source of lighting in
evidence. There was obviously more going on here than met the eye, the
decor was for appearances only.
"I wish she'd get a move on." Before the guard could offer any form of
rebuke for this muttered comment, Paul's wish was granted. The man left the
dais and walked towards them. Paul couldn't help admiring the defined
musculature of the man's bare chest and the way the muscles rippled in his
thighs as he moved. He passed by them as if they didn't even exist and
walked out of the door.
After a moment of silent reflection, the woman glanced in their
direction. "Come closer," she requested. It was the first time that Paul
had heard her voice clearly. It resonated through his head like the purest
crystal, almost hypnotic in it's beauty. He found himself obeying without
thought, the sharp nudge to the small of his back which he received from
the guard was totally unnecessary.
As they came closer Paul couldn't help staring. He could have described her
as beautiful, but somehow the word wasn't quite right. At first glance he
would have put her age at around twenty-five, but it could just have easily
have been thirty-five. Her perfect face was framed by hair of spun gold
which fell like a glistening waterfall, cascading over her pale
shoulders. She was wearing a dress of the sheerest fabric, her full
breasts, plainly visible through the transparent material, rising and
falling slightly with each slow breath. But what stood out more than
anything else, what he would never be able to forget, were here eyes. Her
eyes were blue; the blue of a morning sky and like the sky, to gaze into
them was to gaze into infinity.
Another painful nudge in his back brought him back to reality and he
realised the woman had spoken to him. In a panic he replayed the past few
seconds in his mind, she had asked him is name. "Paul," he answered,
somehow managing not to stutter like a nervous schoolboy over even this
simple one syllable word. He hated the way his voice sounded so coarse and
rough after the beautifully modulated tones of his mistress. Yes, that's
how he now felt about her, she was his mistress.
She gave a short laugh at the obvious discomfort he was feeling in her
presence. "Why have you come to my home, Paul?"
"I was trying to find my friend." He replied automatically, anything but
the truth was unthinkable.
"Your friend? What makes you think you will find him here?"
"I followed his trail. This where it led me." Just for an instant, Paul
felt her inside his mind. The mental probe had been so delicate that he had
hardly been aware of it yet at the same time it had been so skilled that he
knew even his most intimate secrets had been laid open for her to browse
through.
Her whole demeanour now seemed to change. In a fraction of a second she had
gone from benevolent mistress to ice queen. She was still beautiful, but
now her beauty was a dark and terrible thing. "The Corps." She spoke with a
slight twist of her mouth, a strange mixture of amusement and distaste. "A
pathetic group of infants dabbling in things they could not possibly hope
to understand. Well, child, you really should have stayed at home playing
with your building blocks. Tell me Paul, what do you think I should do with
you? I could keep you I suppose, but at the moment you are far too scrawny
for my tastes; I like my men with a little more meat on them. The
alternative would be to dispose of you, which would be by far the easiest
option. Though I do so hate to waste what may eventually turn into a decent
specimen of manhood."
Paul was completely under the woman's spell. He found himself upset by her
words. It wasn't what she had said about him, simply that he had
disappointed her in some way. "I am yours to command mistress," he
uttered. Not even in control of his own tongue.
"Of course you are, child," she replied, absently. "But that doesn't help
with my problem, does it?" She tapped her finger on her bottom lip,
considering the boy's fate.
Before she could reach a decision there was a noise from the doorway and
the sound of footsteps entering the hall. Circe glanced in that direction
and a slightly frustrated sigh escaped her lips. "What, exactly, are you
doing here?" Her question was aimed at the newcomer.
Eye contact broken, Paul found that he was once more in charge of his own
mind. He no longer regarded the woman in front of him as a goddess, he felt
dirty and disgusted with himself for letting her control him like she had,
however briefly. Without thinking, he turned to see who she was talking
to. "You!" The word flew from his mouth like a curse. A mere ten yards from
him, his mouth hanging open in surprise, stood Brian. "I knew you were
involved somehow in Mark's disappearance. You've always been jealous of him
ever since he beat you to the post of base leader." Paul had far more to
say, but it went from his mind as he realised what, or rather who, Brian
was carrying in his arms. "Nathan! If you've hurt him I'll personally..."
"Silence!" The word cracked like a whip as Circe's eyes blazed. Paul's jaw
involuntarily clamped shut. "Whilst in my domain you will speak only when
you are spoken to." From her position on the raised platform she glared
down at Brian, her hands on her hips. "As you are aware, I dislike having
to repeat myself, but due to the interruption," she cast a quick glance at
Paul, "on this occasion I will make an exception. So, I ask again, what are
you doing here?"
"I thought that my work with the Corps was completed," Brian replied,
nervously.
"Completed? Did I tell you your work was completed?"
"N... No, but..."
"I will decide when your work is complete," Circe interrupted. "I see you
have found yourself a new playmate," she indicated the boy in Brian's
arms. "You really do have the strangest tastes Brian. I find it a waste
that a handsome specimen such as yourself isn't interested in being with a
woman. Though I suppose you cannot be blamed for the unfortunate side
effects of the faulty gene which provided the meagre powers you were born
with. I see that you've drugged this one. Surely you could manage to find
one who would go with you willingly."
Brian tried to hide is discomfort at her comments by changing the
subject. "What's he doing here?" he asked, nodding towards Paul.
"Ah, yes. What indeed? I was hoping you would be able to provide the answer
to that particular question. Especially since you were the useless imbecile
who provided the trail for him to follow." Seeing Brian's blank look, Circe
explained further, her tone scathing. "He followed the teleportation trail
you left when you brought me the healer, you brain-dead dolt. You may as
well have put up signposts for him to follow."
"I didn't realise." Brian tried to defend himself. "When you gave me the
power to teleport, you only showed me how it worked, you didn't tell me
that it leaves a trail."
Circe's lips were pressed together in a tight line. She breathed deeply in
an obvious effort to contain her temper. "I suppose you are right. I am the
one who is at fault. I'm at fault for expecting a pathetic, mindless moron
like you to be able to carry out a simple task without fouling it up
completely." Her fight against losing her temper was well and truly lost as
the volume of her voice rose several decibels with every syllable. "Tell me
Brian, how many more uninvited guests can we expect just because you didn't
have the intelligence to cover your tracks? And what about the little toy
you have just acquired for yourself? Can we expect a stream of his friends
coming looking for him? I certainly hope not Brian. Because if they do and
if I have to use any more energy sorting out the mess that you have made,
then I shall be a little annoyed. Do you understand what I am saying
Brian?" She continued straight on without giving him the chance to reply to
her questions. "I suggest you put that baby safely in a cradle somewhere,
get back where you came from and sort out the mess you have left
behind. Well? What are you still standing there for? Get out of my sight!"
As Circe's tirade ended on a shriek, Brian turned and hurried from the
hall, leaving her to turn her attentions back to Paul. She considered him
for a few moments and when she spoke it was to the guard who had stood
silently in the background throughout. "Take him away. I'm not in the mood
for dealing with him at the moment. Put him in the room with his friend,
they may as well keep each other company. Fetch him back to me this evening
in my bedchamber, stripped and bathed. I'll make a decision then on whether
to keep him or not, though I have to say he doesn't exactly look
promising." She dismissed them with a wave of her hand.
Hurrying through the base, Taylor was anxious to check on Tristan. He
should wake up at any time now and the young singer wanted to be there when
this happened. There was no telling how much the boy would remember of the
car smash that had killed both his parents and nearly finished him off as
well, but one thing was for sure he was in for a rough time. There was also
the question of whether Tristan's near death experience would affect him in
any way. The intervention of both Taylor and William, combining their
powers in a desperate bid to save the boy, had pulled him back from the
very cusp between life and death. Taylor prayed that the traumatic
experience would not leave any lasting psychological damage.
"HOW IS DAYLE?" Taylor sent the mental question back to William. Dayle had
just been through no small amount of trauma of his own. He had not reacted
well to the news that Mark was in the hands of a person whom he described
as a psychopath; worse than that, she was unpredictable and enormously
powerful. He seemed to have calmed a little, but William offered to stay
with him for a while just be to sure he was alright.
"HE'S FINE. HE SEEMS TO BE SLEEPING," the Prince's mental voice responded
in Taylor's head. "I'LL STAY HERE THOUGH, JUST IN CASE HE WAKES UP."
"GIVE ME A SHOUT IF YOU NEED ME." Taylor sent William the mental equivalent
of a kiss before turning his mind back to the problem how he was going to
explain to Tristan that both of his parents were dead.
Opening the room door, Taylor found that he may have to tackle this
particular problem a little sooner than he had anticipated. Tristan was not
only awake, he was up and around. The boy had been facing away from the
door, but he spun around as Taylor entered. He had wrapped a bed sheet
around his narrow waist, the ends trailing on the floor, but his upper body
was bare and the thought flashed through Taylor's mind that under different
circumstances this boy would be quite beautiful. Unfortunately at the
moment Tristan was not in a fit state to be worrying about his
appearance. His eyes were red rimmed and fresh tears were running down his
pale face. His chest was moving in and out with small rapid breaths as he
hyperventilated. His left hand was holding the bed sheet so tightly that
his knuckles had turned white, while his right was continuously moving
across his face and through his hair. He was quite obviously emotionally
distraught and completely terrified.
Taylor's first impulse was to rush forwards and put his arms around the boy
and try to comfort him. However, he didn't even make it half way. Normally
Taylor kept his empathic ability well under control; it would make his life
unbearable to constantly be able to feel the emotions of the people around
him and so to save his own sanity he had quickly learned to keep this
talent firmly walled up until he chose to bring it into play. Seeing
Tristan in such a state the walls had come tumbling down as he
instinctively tried to reach out to the teenager mentally as well as
physically. When the full impact of the boy's emotional turmoil hit him it
was like running into a brick wall. Staggering and dropping to one knee,
Taylor gasped for breath and put his hand on the floor to try and steady
himself as he pushed back against the waves of fear and dreadful loss which
were pounding into his skull. For a long moment he felt he was drowning,
but he fought back and with an immense effort of will he eventually managed
to get his protective barriers back into place. Wiping the sweat from his
brow with the back of his hand he forced himself to his feet and approached
the stricken boy more slowly. "It's alright. Everything's gonna be ok," he
said, gently, reassuringly.
"How can everything be ok? They're gone. You can't fetch them back can you?
So how can everything be ok?" Tristan shouted.
"Tristan, I'm so, so sorry." Taylor covered the last few feet and put his
hands on Tristan's shoulders, pulling the boy towards him.
"Get off me. Leave me alone," Tristan cried as he tried to pull away. But
Taylor held on and almost immediately the youngster's resistance
disappeared and he allowed himself to be hugged against Taylor's chest.
They stood that way for a long time, the two of them. Taylor held the
Tristan tightly to him, the soft skin of the boy's upper body and face was
warm against the bare flesh of his own chest. Gradually Tristan became
calmer and some of the tension left him. As he relaxed, he lost his grip on
the bed sheet which dropped towards the floor. He grabbed for it and
missed. Realising the boy would be uncomfortable being naked in front of a
stranger, Taylor released his hold and stooped to retrieve the sheet, his
face passing within inches of the youth's exposed groin. Accepting the
returned makeshift garment gratefully, Tristan hurriedly recovered himself
with it.
"Let's sit down," suggested Taylor and led the boy across to the bed. "Do
you want to tell me what you remember?" he asked, once they were seated.
"I don't know," Tristan had stopped crying, but his voice still trembled as
he spoke.
"You can tell me if you want to. If you don't want to it doesn't matter."
Tristan looked up and his red rimmed eyes met Taylor's. Taylor smiled
gently, getting a small, forced smile in return before Tristan looked away.
"I don't remember very much. I remember we were driving along, then
everything seemed to go black, I don't know what happened. The next thing I
remember is that I hurt everywhere. I hurt a lot. I wanted to cry out but I
couldn't and I couldn't see anything either. Then I heard a man's voice. He
was talking to someone else. He said the man and woman were dead..."
Tristan's voice faltered and Taylor thought he was going to cry again, but
the boy swallowed back the tears and continued. "He said there was a kid in
the back but that he was in a bad way and they were going to have to cut
him out. I tried to speak but for some reason I couldn't. The last thing I
remember was the awful noise. That must be when they started cutting. Then
I woke up in that room over there. What are you in for?" The sudden change
in direction took Taylor by surprise.
"What do you mean?"
"What are you in the hospital for?"
Taylor immediately realised what had happened. Tristan naturally assumed
that he was still in hospital. "Tristan, this isn't a hospital. You were
hurt in the crash, but you're better now. You were moved here so that we
could take care of you."
"Not a hospital?" Tristan frowned, then his frown deepened. "The man said I
was in a bad way, but there isn't a mark on me. How long have a been here?"
"Erm... not very long." Taylor could feel himself rapidly losing control of
the conversation and things were about to get very complicated. "Look,
Tristan, I think I'd better start at the beginning." As briefly as he
could, Taylor explained about the Corps and about the special talents it's
members possessed, though for the moment carefully skipping over any
indication that the boy would now have some major abilities of his own."
Tristan listened wide eyed, shaking his head every so often in disbelief.
"You're kidding me, right? I mean, nobody really has all these powers and
stuff."
"I know it's hard for you to believe at the moment, but you'll see plenty
of proof soon enough," said Taylor.
For a while Tristan didn't speak, it was as if he were digesting the
information he'd been given. "You've never told me your name," he said,
suddenly breaking the silence.
"Sorry, I should have introduced myself. I'm Taylor."
"Taylor?" Connections were rapidly made in Tristan's brain. "You're Taylor
Hanson. Shit, man, I lost a girlfriend because of you. She used to go on
and on about you until I couldn't stand it anymore and I dumped her."
Taylor pulled a face. "Some of them get a bit obsessive. It can get
embarrassing sometimes."
"Once she even told me straight out that she wanted to lose her virginity
to you. That really sucks, man. How could I compete with that? She wouldn't
even let me put my hand in her shirt and feel her tits. I bet you've never
had that problem with a girl."
"I can't say I have." Taylor replied, in all honesty. He had never come
across that particular problem simply because he had never had the
inclination to try putting his hand inside a girl's shirt. Tristan's
comments had started to get him a little worried. The boy did not show the
slightest indication of being anything but heterosexual. Everyone with
powers was gay, or at least that was what Taylor had been told. But
Tristan's powers had been given to him, he hadn't been born with
them. Would that make a difference? Would he start to be attracted to other
boys now that he had powers, or would he stay straight? If he remained
straight, how would he react to discovering all the other Corps members
were gay? These were questions which would have to be answered in the
future. For now though he had enough problems coming to terms with the loss
of both his parents without having to worry about his sexuality. "Let's get
you sorted out with some clothes and then if you feel up to it I'll
introduce you to some of the others. Do you want to get a shower while I
see if I can find anything that will fit you? You're not too far off my
size so some of my things might do for now."
"Yeah, I'd like a shower I think." Tristan tensed as if he were going to
stand up but a moment later his shoulders slumped and he sniffed. "What's
going to happen to me Taylor? I haven't got anyone. I haven't any family or
anything. Who's going to take care of me?"
"The Corps will take care of you." Taylor gently lifted Tristan's chin with
his finger so that he could look into the boy's eyes. "And it's not true
that you don't have anybody. You have me, and you have William, who you
will meet later. You'll soon find you have more friends than you can cope
with. I know we can never replace your parents, but we can be a kind of
family for you if you will let us." He got to his feet. pulling Tristan
with him. "You hit the shower while I get you some clothes."
Watching the young teenager go into the bathroom, Taylor sighed. He was
glad that was over, though he realised there would be many difficult times
still to come. Quickly, he went about the business of finding the boy
something to wear. This small task completed, he realised that what with
all the events of the morning he still hadn't had a shower himself. Without
thought he pulled off his own clothing and followed Tristan into the
bathroom.
Tristan was busy soaping himself under the steaming water jets and at first
didn't notice Taylor coming in.
"Room for one more in there?" Taylor asked, stepping under the spray.
"Er, yeah, I guess." Tristan moved further into the shower to allow Taylor
more room.
For the next few minutes, whilst they both washed, Taylor tried to make
polite conversation, asking Tristan general questions about himself such as
the things he liked to do and what sort of music he listened to.
Tristan answered the questions, but otherwise made no attempt at
conversation of his own; instead, his attention seemed to be taken up by
snatching frequent but covert glances at Taylor's body. Taylor wanted to
tell him that it was ok, he could look all he wanted, but decided that
there would be time enough for that sort of thing later when Tristan's
emotional state was more settled. Best for the moment to pretend he hadn't
noticed.
Finishing first, Tristan left the shower and turned his back to Taylor as
he towelled himself dry. Now it was Taylor's turn to watch and he was able
to do so quite openly. Tristan had been naked when he had first appeared at
the Corps base, unconscious in Dayle's arms and there wasn't any part of
the boy's body that Taylor hadn't already seen, but now that he was up and
around, the effect of his nudity was quite different. Watching the play of
small muscles beneath the smooth skin of his back and the way the
glistening droplets of water ran down from his young shoulders, Taylor
began to feel a stirring in his groin. The boy was extremely attractive
there was no doubt about that, but the young singer could not help feeling
a twinge of guilt that he was getting horny for a boy who had recently
suffered a huge tragedy. He told himself he shouldn't be having such
thoughts. Maybe later when Tristan had fully gotten over his
grief. However, some parts of the body cannot be controlled by logic or
reason and a certain part of Taylor had ideas of its own.
As Tristan wrapped the towel around himself and turned back towards Taylor
he found the older boy staring at him and sporting a full erection.
"Huh, sorry," Taylor apologised, embarrassed. "It just happens sometimes."
"Yeah, don't worry. It's cool," Tristan replied, as though this sort of
thing was an everyday occurrence. But he was unable to stop the blush that
reached his cheeks before he quickly looked away.
Finishing off, they returned to the main room, where Taylor presented the
boy with the clothes he had found for him. "I think they should fit. Most
of the stuff is new and what isn't new is clean so you don't have to worry
about catching anything," Taylor grinned. "If we get chance later I could
take you out and get you some stuff of your own."
"Thanks, but I don't have any money."
"Hey, not a problem. I'll take care of it. I love to shop. We can get some
new things for me as well while we're at it."
Tristan pulled on the clothes and after a quick inspection Taylor told him
he "would do". "Now, how about we go and see what my brother is up to. I
haven't seen him yet today and I always get worried when he's out of my
sight for too long. Zac gets bored easily and when Zac gets bored it's look
out world."
"Would it be ok if I stayed here?" Tristan asked. "I think I'd like to be
on my own for a while."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine. I'd love to meet Zac and the others later, but I need
a bit of time to myself to get my head straight."
"Well, if you're sure that's what you want." Taylor was reluctant to leave
the boy on his own, but could understand the confusion he must be
feeling. "I'll check back on you later. If you change your mind just come
and find me, I won't be too far away."
After Taylor had gone and Tristan was finally alone he breathed a sigh of
relief and sat down on the bed to think. His mind was a mass of conflicting
feelings and emotions, the worst by far being the knowledge that he would
never see his parents again. The feeling of loss was like a huge black pit
that threatened to swallow him up completely. With a great effort, he put a
lid onto the pit and pushed it to one side. He would have to reopen it
eventually and face his despair, but not now, not today.
Uninvited, an image sprang into Tristan's mind. Taylor, in the shower,
naked, his hard cock standing up in front of him. The confused teen felt
stirrings in the pit of his stomach. What was happening to him? He had
never before experienced this sort of reaction to seeing another boy
naked. He had seen his school friends naked often enough in the locker room
at school and never given it a second thought. There had even been the time
Jeremy Dawson had sprung a boner in the showers. Tristan had joined in with
the other boys in laughing at him and calling him a fag. It had been months
before Jeremy had been allowed to forget that unfortunate incident. Seeing
Jeremy hard had not prompted any response in Tristan at all, with exception
of amusement. Why was he now getting hard himself from seeing Taylor
sexually arouse?
Almost unconsciously his hand went to his crotch and he began rubbing his
stiffening boyhood through the rough denim of the slightly too large
jeans. Another thought entered his head; he was wearing Taylor's
shorts. Were they new, or had Taylor worn them? Had the very material that
was now pressing against his prick previously been in contact with Taylor's
erection? His own cock gave a lurch and he fumbled with the zip of his
jeans. "Shit, I'm turning into a fag," he muttered to himself,
disgustedly. How many times had he heard both of his parents going on about
how same sex relationships went against nature? Now here we was rubbing his
cock and thinking about another boy. He replaced the image of Taylor with
one of his latest girlfriend. He had never managed to see her naked, but
his imagination filled in the details. Quickly he pulled open his belt and
pushed his jeans down past his knees, his shorts following, allowing his
throbbing boymeat to spring out and up, insistent, desperate for physical
contact.
As he lay on his back on the bed, his pants around his ankles, his shirt
pulled up to expose his hairless, still boyish chest and his fist pumping
feverishly at his swollen tool, he suddenly realised the picture he was
seeing was once again the smooth naked form of Taylor Hanson. His thoughts
were now running out of control as the image of Taylor began to jerk off,
slowly, seductively, his hand moving up and down. Tristan couldn't help
wondering what it would feel like to hold Taylor's rigid member in his own
fist. Suddenly, in his aroused imagination, Tristan was no longer jerking
himself, it was Taylor's warm hand clasped firmly around Tristan's hard
meat and Tristan was now stroking Taylor. "Oh, yeah. Go faster..,
faster..." he panted, breathlessly. The tempo of his stroking increased,
his head went back and his mouth opened as he gasped for air. His heartbeat
matched the rhythm of his pounding fist and every nerve ending in his body
came alive as he rapidly neared the point of release. "Arrghh....". The
groan that forced it's way from his throat was almost agonised as his back
arched and spurt after steaming spurt of hot boycum streamed from the
swollen head of his aching rod. He tried to continue his pumping in an
effort to prolong the sensation, but the muscles in his arm and wrist were
no longer under full control and it was as much as he could do to squeeze
the last drops of jism up and out of his sensitive shaft before he
collapsed exhausted onto the bed.
For several long minutes he lay there with his eyes closed, his breathing
becoming easier as the thick fluid became cool on his chest and
stomach. Eventually he managed to find the energy to go into the bathroom
and clean himself. Satisfied that he once again looked respectable he
returned to the other room intending to go and look for Taylor. To find
that he was no longer alone.
"Well, young man, it is good to see you awake at last." Standing in the
middle of the room was an old man.
"Shit! You frightened me half to death," exclaimed Tristan.
"My apologies," said the man, placatingly. "That certainly wasn't my
intention. Though I think had I disturbed you several moments ago it would
have been even more of a shock. Yes?"
Tristan blushed furiously. Surely this old guy couldn't know about him
beating off. "Who are you? Did Taylor send you to get me?"
The man shook his head. "I will reveal who I am at the proper time. I
suppose I am a friend of Taylor; of sorts anyway, though he does not know
that I am here. No, it is you that interests me. You and the pent up
energies contained in your innocent looking body."
"I don't understand what you are talking about."
"Of course you don't." The old man gave a throaty chuckle. "But you will,
my young friend. Believe me, you will. You and I are going to have a long
talk."
Zac just couldn't keep the silly grin off his face. He didn't even know he
was grinning until Josh had commented on it. Zac, Josh and Chris had been
up quite early to go to the swimming pool. Zac had asked Nathan if he
wanted to go, but the younger boy had just rolled over in bed grumbling
about being tired and promising to follow on later. However, once at the
pool, Zac had failed to live up to his hyperactive reputation. He spent
most of the time sitting on the side absently splashing his feet in the
water, his gaze fixed on some distant, undefined object. After a while Josh
and Chris had given up on trying to get him to join in their games and had
left him to his daydreaming.
For some reason, Zac felt all warm inside. It was a strange feeling that he
had never really encountered before, though he did notice the feeling
became even stronger when he thought about Nathan. The previous night had
been a new experience. Before last night, sex had been purely a fun
thing. Jerking off, sucking and fucking mainly with Josh and later with
Chris had been a sort of game, though admittedly it was more fun than any
other game he could think of. The only time it had meant anything more had
been when Taylor had fucked him; that had been special but also very
intense, strengthening a bond that already existed between two people who
loved each other deeply. Last night though, with Nathan, it had been
different; gentle, tender. For the first time, it had been more important
to Zac that he give pleasure to another than to receive it himself. In
fact, the best thing about it had been making Nathan feel good. This
morning he awoke before Nathan and had lain there for ages just watching
the boy's face and listening to his soft breathing, like a gentle sigh as
it past through his slightly parted lips. It had been an effort not to lean
over and kiss those soft, sweet lips, but an effort worth making if it
allowed the youngster to continue his peaceful slumber. When Nathan had
finally come awake Zac had forced himself to put on an act, hiding his
feelings away with a mask of bravado, though he was sure the younger boy
had seen straight through his protective exterior to the softer emotions
locked inside.
Bored with the noise and activity in the pool, Zac shouted across to his
two friends that he wasn't in the mood for swimming and that he was going
to look for Nathan. They gave an acknowledging wave and he left them to
it. After pulling on a pair of shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt he went
looking for the boy he strongly suspected he was falling in love with.
As he wandered down the hallway he was unable to keep from smiling
happily. If this was the way that Taylor felt about William he could now
understand why the two of them spent so much time just gazing into each
others eyes. This love thing had an awful lot going for it. In fact, he
wished he'd tried it earlier. He entered the main room and all was quite as
he made for the side room where he had spent the night with Nathan. His
lazy little lover boy must still be in bed. Moving softly so as not to give
any warning, Zac decided Nathan's reward for sleeping so late would a
special "Zac Wake-up Call", something his family had come to know only too
well over the years, much to their chagrin. Cautiously he turned the door
handle, took a deep breath and flinging the door open he charged inside.
"Wakey, wakey! Get your lazy ass out of that bed!" he shouted, at the top
of his lungs. "What...?" The warm feeling in his stomach instantly
disappeared and was replaced by a block of ice. Nathan was not in the
room. But someone else was.
Brian had his back to the door as he picked something up from the top of
the bedside cabinet. He gave a cry of surprise as he spun around, looking
guilty as hell. "Fuck! What the hell are you doing here?"
"Where's Nathan? What have you done with him?" The icy feeling in Zac's
stomach spread through his whole body as he saw the object that Brian had
picked up; a hypodermic needle attached to an empty syringe.
Ignoring Zac's question, Brian tried to move around the boy to get to the
door, but Zac wasn't having any of it, placing himself directly in the
doorway so that the only way out was through him. "Tell me what you've done
with Nathan."
"Get out of my way you little shit!" Brian roughly grabbed the top of Zac's
arm, his strong fingers digging into the young flesh.
"Let go of me," Zac cried. "Where's Nathan?" He again repeated the
question, his voice taking on a more desperate tone as he launched himself
forwards onto the much older and heavier Brian.
"Aaarghhh!" For a moment Brian staggered back, his expression showing pain
and anger. He glared at Zac before pulling free the needle that had
embedded itself into his own thigh, tossing it aside. "You're going to be
sorry for that you little fuck." Again he advanced on the smaller boy, this
time taking hold of his arms with both hands.
Zac struggled valiantly, but he was totally outmatched. Almost on impulse
he swung his foot around and, with his heel, cracked Brian a sharp blow on
the shin, smiling grimly at the cry of pain that came forth. However this
small triumph was short lived. Suddenly his world exploded in bright,
searing white flashes of pain as Brian's fist caught him on his left cheek
just below his eye, the force of the blow knocking him off his feet onto
his back on the floor.
For a moment he lay there winded and unable to see straight, but his vision
quickly began to clear to the menacing sight of Brian moving towards him,
his handsome features made ugly by a mask of fury. Zac tried to scramble
backwards, knowing that physically he was no match for his attacker, but
found himself with his back against a wall. He could go no further, there
was no escape. "Get away from me," he cried, panic welling up inside him as
Brian bent forwards, fists clenched. Automatically Zac curled himself into
a ball and raised his arms to his head to protect himself from the blows he
knew were about to fall.
Suddenly he felt a huge pressure building inside his head. In his panic he
had forgotten that he was indeed far from helpless. Luckily for him, his
subconscious was not prepared to sit idly back while he was beaten to a
pulp and was even now fetching his considerable telekinetic ability into
play. Realising that he could actually deal with Brian on equal terms,
panic gave way to confidence and as he dropped his arms from his head the
change was immediately apparent in his face.
For a moment Brian paused, uncertain. Why was the boy no longer cowering
down, defeated? This pause was all the time that Zac needed. Releasing the
gathered energies in one massive blast he watched as Brian was lifted from
his feet and propelled backwards at tremendous speed, hitting the solid
wall with a loud crack before sliding to the floor semiconscious.
"Zac!" Taylor appeared at the doorway and charged across the room,
squatting down at Zac's side. "What's happened? You're hurt!" Bruises were
already beginning to form where Brian's fingers had cruelly dug into the
tops of Zac's arms and the boys face was red and swollen on the left side.
"I'm alright, Tay." Zac was unable to keep the tremor from his voice and
now that the danger was past he found he had to fight hard to keep himself
from crying like a baby.
"You're not alright, you're shaking. What happened to your face. It looks
like someone hit you." It was at that point that Taylor glanced around and
saw Brian slumped against the opposite wall. "Brian!" Taylor spat out the
name like a curse. "Did he do that to you?" he asked, turning back to Zac
and indicating the growing lump under the youngster's eye.
"Yeah, but that doesn't matter. Tay, he's done something to Nathan."
Taylor's expression, already cold, turned icy. "Tell me."
It all came out in rush: finding Nathan gone, Brian with an empty syringe,
the struggle that followed. "We've got to find Nathan, Tay. We've got to,"
Zac sobbed, unable to hold back the flood of tears any longer. Taylor put
his arms around his distraught brother and hugged him tightly. "We'll find
him and he'll be ok, I promise."
Seconds later William burst into the room, obviously responding to Taylor's
mental call for help. The prince's face was like a thundercloud as he
quickly appraised the situation and advanced on Brian who was just now
beginning to stir.
"I warned you once before about hurting small boys. Perhaps you want to try
hitting me?" William spoke through clenched teeth.
"You're all so full of yourself aren't you? A high and mighty prince."
Brian sneered. "Strutting around as if you are someone important. You make
me sick. Well here's a thought to remember me by. I have your little friend
and I'm going to have a good time with him. I can do whatever I want with
him and there's not a thing you can do about it. So fuck you."
In fury, William stepped forwards and reached out his hand to grab hold
of... empty air. Brian was no longer there.
"Noooooooo!" Zac's agonised wail broke the silence and he scrambled to his
feet, rushing over to where Brian had been.
William turned to look at Taylor, his expression showing his shock and
surprise at what had just occurred. "I didn't know he could teleport."
"No, neither did anyone else." Taylor's voice was hard as he barely kept
his own anger in check. "There's something strange going on here, I think
we should go find Adam and the others. They need to know about what's
happened and we need their help. If Brian has hurt Nathan or even touched
him, I'll personally make him sorry he was ever born."
Standing almost on the same spot that Brian had occupied, Zac was aware of
a strange sensation, almost like something tugging at him. He vaguely
remembered something that Paul had told him about teleporters leaving a
residual trace that other teleporters could follow. Could this be what he
was feeling now? He closed his eyes to help his concentration and shut out
everything except the tugging sensation. Yes, it had to be. The jump had
been short; Brian must still be somewhere close by. He had it! "Brian
teleported to his office." Zac announced. "I'll see you there."
"Zac! No, don't!" Taylor's warning had barely reached Zac's ears before boy
experienced the slight nausea that always accompanied a teleportation and
his surroundings instantly changed. He was now in Brian's office.
Disappointment cut into Zac's stomach like a knife. There was no one else
in the room, no sign of his quarry anywhere. Urgently, he cast around with
his senses seeking a further trail to follow.
Seconds later the door burst open and a breathless William and Taylor
practically threw themselves inside.
"Zac! You stupid, brainless, idiotic..."
"I can't find him, Tay." Zac interrupted his brother's tirade. "There are
so many trails here that I can't sort one from another."
Taylor put his arms around Zac and hugged him fiercely. "You little
fool. You could have been hurt. I love you Zac and I don't want anything to
happen to you."
"And I love you Tay. But I love Nathan as well."
"I know you do Zac, we all do. Nathan's become special to all of us,"
Taylor said, comfortingly.
"No, you don't understand. I LOVE Nathan. I love him like you love
William. But now Brian's taken him and he's going to hurt him. Tay, if he
hurts him I don't what I'm going to do. Not knowing where Nathan is or what
might be happening to him is hurting me so badly. We have to do something
before it's too late."
"Oh Zac, I'm sorry, I didn't know you felt that way about Nathan. I promise
you that he's going to be ok. As soon as we get everyone together we'll go
and get him back."
Zac wiped his eyes with the back of his arm and allowed his older brother
to guide him from the room.
It took a little while to gather everyone in one place. They met in Dayle's
room where a sombre mood settled over them all as it became clear exactly
what sort of situation they face. In a trembling voice, Zac had told them
of his struggle with Brian. The bruise under the boy's eye was now turning
a dark purple colour; he had refused, for reasons of his own, to let Taylor
heal it for him.
After Zac had finished it was Dayle's turn to bring them all up to date
about Mark, explaining to the ones who did not already know how he had
discovered that the former base leader was now with a Sentinel called
Circe. This had prompted some questions about the nature of the Sentinels,
to which he repeated the answers he had given to Taylor and William
earlier. Ending by saying: "So it seems we now have two missing friends."
"Make that three," said Adam. The young asian had been sitting quietly off
to one side, seemingly in a world of his own yet still listening to what
was being said. "I've spent ages trying to contact Paul. I haven't seen him
since he disappeared yesterday after finding out that Mark was gone. I
can't locate his mind anywhere, it's as if he vanished off the face of the
earth."
"Paul's a strong teleporter, it could that he has somehow managed to find
Mark," said Dayle. "If so then I don't give much for his chances."
In the thoughtful pause which followed, Taylor nudged William. "I'm just
going to get Tristan," he said, softly. "With all everyone disappearing I
don't think he should be left on his own."
William nodded and squeezed Taylor's hand as the young singer got up and
left.
"What I would like to know is how Brian managed teleport away," said
William, joining in the conversation. "Could it be something he's always
been able to do but that he's kept hidden from everyone?"
Dayle shook his head. "I've known Brian for a long time. He's always been
slimy and underhand, but there's no way he could have kept that sort of
ability a secret. He would have been using it to his own advantage long
before now. I'll tell you what I think, it's my guess that Brian is working
for Circe. Look at the evidence. We know that the sentinels have the
ability to give powers to others, I've had first hand experience of
that. Brian has always hated Mark, that's no great secret. It was a mystery
how Mark disappeared from the base without leaving by the main doors, and
we now discover Brian is able to teleport. Finally we know that Mark is
with Circe so it's reasonable to assume that it was Brian that took him
there and therefore Brian is involved in some way with Circe."
"So is that where Nathan is?" asked Zac.
"We don't know that Zac," said Dayle, patting the boy comfortingly on the
leg. "He could be, but Brian could have taken him anywhere, we just don't
know."
"What about your friend Karl? William asked. "He's not short on
power. Can't he help?"
"Karl can't get involved," Dayle replied. "One of the oaths taken by
Sentinels is that they will never go up against each other. They have
enormous power and battle between them would be catastrophic. The only
exception to this would be if one of the Sentinels were to break their
rules. If this were to happen then the others would get together to remove
him or her. As far as I know it's never happened and besides, Circe is much
too clever to risk that. As long as she doesn't do anything that will
endanger the world or take some sort of action against another Sentinel
then she can do pretty much as she likes"
"It looks like we're on our own then," said Adam. "Unless of course anyone
wants to consider approaching the Corps Council for help. Personally I
don't think that is such a good idea; Brian had a lot of influence on the
council, it was down to him that Mark was suspended. If some of the other
council members were in league with him we could be making even more
trouble for ourselves."
"I agree," said Dayle. "It's best to leave the council out of it."
It was at this point that Taylor returned. He was wearing a worried
expression and carrying a piece of paper which he silently handed to
William.
William glanced at the paper before reading it aloud. "Dear Taylor, there
is something I have to do and so I have to go away for a while. I am sorry
that I cannot stay to say goodbye, but I will see you again soon, I
hope. Your friend, Tris."
"I've checked at the main door," said Taylor. "He didn't leave that
way. Which means someone took him."
"So much for our security measures," said Adam, breaking the stunned
silence. "It makes you wonder who will be next."
"I think its time we took some action." Dayle sat forwards on his
chair. "Since we have nothing better to go on, I think we should assume
that at least Mark and Nathan are with Circe, possibly Paul as well. So
that would seem the best place to start. I worked for the Sentinels, so I
know where to find Circe, but our problem is going to be getting there
since I no longer have the ability to teleport and Adam is only strong
enough to take one person with him."
"I can teleport," Zac interrupted. "And I'm sure I can take at least one
with me, maybe two."
"You're inexperienced, Zac," Adam explained, kindly. "Teleportation can be
dangerous if you don't know what you are doing. You need to be 100 percent
confident in your ability before you should even consider taking someone
along with you."
Dayle smiled. "Thanks for the offer Zac, but I don't want you taking any
unnecessary risks."
"It's a good job I came along then isn't it." Suddenly there was another
person in the room.
"Thomas!" Dayle exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" Immediately adding:
"I no longer owe anything to the Sentinels, Thomas. 'All promises are
cancelled, all debts repaid.' Those were Karl's words."
"Relax," said Thomas. "I'm here as a friend. I won't even hold it against
you that you nearly blasted my brains out while I was distracted." He
grinned. "Pity we won't get chance for a rematch now that you have lost all
of your extra powers."
"I may not have the powers that I had when I was with the Sentinels," Dayle
replied. "But I'm not exactly helpless. My telepathy is as strong as it
ever was and I've learnt a few trick with it over the past year. I could
still give a fair account of myself if I needed to. How long have you been
listening in?"
"Long enough to hear that you are in a bit of a mess and that Mark is not
the only one who is missing."
Did Karl send you?" Dayle asked.
"Well, not directly," Thomas explained. "You know how cryptic the old guy
can be. He told me about your problem with Circe and, looking me in the
eye, like he does, he said that this was a time when you really needed all
of your friends to stand by you. He couldn't just come out and order me to
help you against Circe, that would come close to breaking his vow about
going up against another Sentinel, but he managed to make it quite clear
what he meant."
"So you're here to help?" Dayle was still suspicious.
"Well, we worked together for quite a while, and in spite of the way we
parted company I still think of you as my friend. So I'm here to offer you
my help if you want it, though I must be stupid to even consider such an
offer. Going head to head with a Sentinel has to be the most ridiculous
idea I've ever heard. Bye the way, I think you should be aware of the exact
nature of Circe's interest in Mark."
"You mean she wants him for more than sex?"
Thomas nodded. "As you know, Circe is infamous for her sexual appetites and
the stable of good looking young men she keeps, but in Mark's case she is
more interested in his power than his body. The Sentinels live far longer
than ordinary people, but eventually even they start to show their age;
look at Karl. But Circe is far older than Karl or any of the others yet
still manages to look young."
"I'd never really thought about it," admitted Dayle.
"Well think about it now," Thomas continued. "Mark's main power is
healing. That is what she wants. She'll drain off his power and use it to
prevent herself from ageing, just like she has done with many others over
the years. Of course, you know what happens to healers when they are
drained completely."
Dayle had gone white, he knew.
Taylor looked at William, they also knew only too well that the result of
using too much energy was coma followed by death.
"So what's the plan?" Thomas asked. "I assume that the idea is to try and
get in and out of there before Circe realises what is happening. Of course,
even if we manage that, it's likely she may be just a little vexed and will
decide to come after us. If that happens, my friend, you are on your
own. Stupid I may be, but I'm not suicidal."
"Just help to get us in there Thomas and if we are successful help to get
us out again," Dayle said. "Now all we need to decide is exactly who is
going. I think at least the younger ones, Josh, Chris and Zac should stay
behind."
"What? No way," exclaimed Zac. "I'm going with you. If you try to leave me
I'll follow on my own."
At the back of the room Josh glanced at Chris before speaking, his voice
nervous. "We'd like to come as well. Mark and Nathan are our friends so
it's only right that we should help."
"Let them come," said Thomas. "I can manage to teleport you all, and if it
comes to any sort of confrontation with Circe your only hope will be in
numbers. Powerful as she is, she can only do so many things at once."
"So it's settled then," sighed Dayle. "We had better get on with it."
They teleported into complete darkness and a silence so profound they could
hear each other's heartbeats. Eventually someone, probably Thomas, let out
a long slow breath and the others quickly followed suit.
Taylor gripped tightly onto William's hand, both of their palms slick with
sweat. "WILLIAM, ARE YOU SCARED?"
"YOU BET I AM."
"IT'S NOT JUST ME THEN? I THINK IF WE MAKE IT OUT OF THIS I'M GONNA NEED
SOME CLEAN UNDERWEAR." Taylor felt his hand squeezed and even in the
darkness he knew William was grinning at him.
"Let there be light," Thomas announced as he used his energy powers to
produce a glowing ball, lighting up what appeared to be a store
room. "Welcome to Chateau Circe, I hope you had a pleasant flight. Since
your transportation has come to a complete stop it is now safe to unfasten
your safety belts."
>From where he was standing, Taylor could easily see the sheen of sweat on
Thomas' forehead and didn't need his empathic ability to realise that in
spite of his weak attempt at humour the powerful apprentice Sentinel was as
nervous as the rest of them.
"What now?" asked Dayle.
"Don't look at me," Thomas replied. "This is your show, I'm just here to
help. But I would suggest that we find what we've come for and get the hell
out."
"Let's go then." Dayle went to open the door, but before he did so he
paused a second. "It's safe. There's no one on the other side." He opened
the door onto a deserted dimly corridor.
"How could you be so confident that there was no one around?" asked Thomas,
extinguishing his glowing globe.
"Like I said earlier, I've learned a few tricks. There's more to telepathy
than just reading minds. Be nice to me and I might show you how to do it."
Dayle was already heading along the corridor so he wasn't in a position to
see Thomas' scowl.
Dayle led the way with Adam just a step behind. Next were Taylor and
William, followed by Zac, Chris and Justin. Thomas brought up the rear.
"Do you know where you're going?" Adam whispered.
"I haven't a clue," Dayle replied, also in a whisper. "One way is as good
as another at the moment. I've been trying to locate Mark telepathically,
but I can't find him. Something tells me he's not far away though, call it
intuition if you like. If I'm right then his mind must be shielded. Hang on
a minute." He paused and put his hand to his head, bringing them all to
halt. "I've found Nathan," he suddenly announced.
"Nathan? Where is he? Is he ok?" Zac push in front of William and Taylor,
the latter putting his hand on his brother's shoulder ready to offer
support if the news wasn't good.
"Ouch!" Dayle gave a cry of pain. "Shit, that kid is one powerful telepath,
or he will be once he knows what he's doing. There was a shield of sorts in
his mind, not an incredibly strong one, probably put there by Brian, but
Nathan just tore it open as if it were tissue paper. Yeah, he's ok, but
very frightened."
"What are we waiting for then?" asked Zac, impatiently. "Let's go get him."
They set off at a much faster pace, Dayle still leading the way and using
his telepathic ability to home in on Nathan. Straight into trouble. Around
a corner in front of them two men appeared. Both were probably in their
early twenties and dressed in just shorts and sandals. It was impossible to
miss the highly developed musculature of their tanned bodies.
"Two of Circe's guards," Dayle hissed, again coming abruptly to a halt.
Zac, however, was not so easily deterred. "Get out of my way," he shrieked,
charging straight at the men who were blocking the passage.
"Wait Zac," Taylor called. But it was too late. His younger sibling had his
mind set on just one thing and that was getting to Nathan. Anyone who stood
between him and the boy he had fallen in love with had better be prepared
to deal with the consequences.
The men hesitated. They were obviously taken by surprise at this unexpected
encounter with a group of teenagers, but to be attacked by a boy small
enough to be handled by either of them with one hand tied behind his back
was something else again. As Zac approached they both fell into a defensive
crouch. It was the last move they had chance to make before they were both
picked up by some unseen force and helplessly tossed aside like piles of
rags. Zac flew passed their stunned bodies as if they weren't even there.
The other boys followed as quickly as they could, Taylor pausing for a
second to check that the two prone guards were not too badly hurt. He knew
his brother well; Zac would be devastated to learn later that his
recklessness, however warranted, has caused someone serious injury.
"They'll be ok, there's nothing broken," said Taylor to William and Adam
who had both remained behind with him.
"You go ahead then," Adam suggested, "I'll catch you up in a
moment. There's something I want to try here first."
"Right, but be careful and call us if you need any help," said William,
over his shoulder, as he and Taylor raced after the others.
Up ahead shouting had broken out, with Zac's voice prominent. Taylor put on
an extra burst of speed as he also recognised Brian's voice cursing
angrily. But before the two late comers could catch up with their friends
there was an agonised scream followed by silence.
"Oh, no. Zac!" Taylor pleaded as he rounded a final corner and pushed
between Chris and Josh who were blocking an open doorway. He breathed a
sigh of relief as Zac stood before him, frightened but unharmed. At Zac's
feet, deathly still, lay the crumpled form of the Corps member turned
traitor, Brian. While on a bed by the wall, curled into a terrified ball
but otherwise appearing unharmed was Nathan. Taylor wanted to rush over and
comfort the trembling boy, but first he had to check on Brian's
condition. As he knelt, he addressed his brother. "Zac, what have you
done?"
"It wasn't me Tay, honest. I didn't touch him," Zac replied. "But if he'd
hurt Nathan I would have done," he added, fiercely. "Is he dead do you
think?" He prodded unsympathetically at the body with his toe.
"No Zac, he's not dead, at least not as far as his body is concerned."
Taylor looked up at Dayle, "You'd better look into his mind, I think that's
where the problem is."
A small voice spoke up from the bed. "I did it, not Zac. He was going to
hurt me. He put something in my arm that made me feel strange, but I can
still remember everything he said. He told me about all the things he was
going to do to me. He said he wanted to wait until the drug had worn off so
that I could enjoy what he was going to do. I didn't want him to do any of
those things and so when he came near me I just hit out at him with the new
power that you gave me, Taylor. I don't really know what I did, but I
didn't want to kill him, only to keep him away."
By this time Taylor was sitting on the bed next to Nathan, his arms around
the boy. "You're safe now. No one can blame you for trying to defend
yourself and whatever has happened to him, he had it coming."
Dayle had finished his examination of Brian and was now looking at Nathan
with renewed respect. "Brian is going to have one hell of a headache when
he wakes up but there's no permanent damage in his mind except for one
small area. His powers are gone. It's as if the area in his mind which
controlled his powers has been wiped clean. It's an amazing thing; I didn't
even know it was possible. Apart from that I think he'll be fine."
"Pity," Zac mumbled under his breath, once again poking the still form with
his toe before walking across to stand in front of Nathan. "He
didn't... you know... touch you or anything did he?" he asked the boy.
"No. He was waiting until the drugs had properly warn off." Nathan seemed
to be calming down a little now. Until it suddenly dawned on him that he
was naked in a room full of fully clothed people. Embarrassed, he put his
hands in his lap.
Instantly, Zac realised the problem and pulled his T-shirt over his
head. "You can put this on if you like," he offered.
"Thanks." Nathan quickly put on the garment, which while not ideal, at
least hung down low enough to cover his modesty. "What happened to your
face?"
"I had a sort of disagreement with Brian." Zac replied, uncomfortably,
looking down at the floor and shuffling his feet. "It was when I found out
he'd done something to you." This last was little more than a mumble. Even
with his head down it was obvious that the younger Hanson was blushing
furiously.
"Zac, for heaven's sake, spit it out," Taylor cut in, trying not to show
his amusement. He couldn't remember ever seeing Zac blush before. "We can't
afford to hang around, so if you've got something to say to Nathan then say
it. Otherwise it will have to wait until we get back." Taylor's face turned
serious, as he remembered where they were. "If we get back," he added to
himself.
Nathan looked on, with mounting anticipation as Zac searched for words. In
the end the younger boy decided to take matters into his own hands. He got
up from the bed and kissed Zac gently on the lips. "That's for fighting
Brian for me."
Zac blushed even deeper than before. "I think..., I think love you Nathan,"
he stuttered, his head down.
"Yuk!" cried Chris, from the doorway. "Zac's gone and got all slushy." He
followed his remarks by bending over, putting his fingers down his throat
and making loud retching sounds.
"I think it's sweet," Josh countered.
"You would," Chris responded, disgustedly. "I would have expected something
like that from you, but I never thought Zac would sink that low. Just look
at the two of them now." He pointed to Zac and Nathan who where hugging
each other tightly.
"Head's up, you lot. I know where to find Mark and Paul." Adam had appeared
at the doorway, a little out of breath. "I checked in the minds of those
two goons back there. Mark and Paul are being held together in a room not
far from here. Let's go pick them up and get out of this place."
"Yeah, let's get going." Dayle had become instantly alert at the sound of
Mark's name. "We've been lucky so far. The sooner we're away from here the
better." He glanced around at the them all. "Where's Thomas?"
"He was behind us when Zac ploughed through the guards," William
offered. "But I haven't seen him since then." Everyone else shook there
heads to indicate that they hadn't seen him either.
"Damn him," cursed Dayle. "It looks like he's run out on us. I thought
Thomas had more guts than that.. It's going to make getting home a bit more
awkward, but least if we find Paul he will be able to help. We'll worry
about that when the time comes."
Adam now took the lead. Using the map in his head he moved quickly and
confidently through dimly lit passageways, Dayle only one step behind. The
pace he was setting caused problems for some of the younger boys,
particularly Nathan, who was trying to run on bare feet. The eleven year
old was immensely relieved when Adam came to a stop outside a strong
looking door.
"Mark? Paul? Can you hear me?" Adam called, his face pressed close to the
hard wooden surface.
"Adam!" Paul's voice, came from within.
"I'll teleport inside," said Adam to Dayle. "It will save William or Zac
blasting the door open. We don't want a lot of noise that might bring
attention to us."
"Good idea," said Dayle. "But keep a telepathic channel open. If I lose
contact with you for even a second I'll get William to blast this door into
splinters."
With a nod of agreement Adam concentrated for a second on his surroundings
and transferred himself instantly from one side of the door to the other.
Inside the room stood a very relieved looking Paul. The fourteen year old
teleporter looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. In the end
settled for rushing up to Adam and hugging him. "You wouldn't believe how
pleased I am to see you."
"Yeah, it's good to see you as well," Adam replied. "If you get me all
worried by running off like that again I might just decide not to come
looking for you." He pushed the boy away to arms length so that he could
get a good look. "I like the new outfit, very sexy. But the perfume doesn't
suit you though; you smell like a cast-off from a brothel."
Paul grimaced as he glanced down at himself. All he was wearing was a very
skimpy loin cloth. "It wasn't my choice. It was this woman called Circe;
she's running the show here and all the guys treat her like they are scared
to death of her."
"I know all about Circe," Adam frowned.
"Yeah? Well the woman is sick in the head. She was going to make me have
sex with her tonight because she wanted to find out whether it would be
worth keeping me alive or not. Shit, who wants to have sex with a
woman. It's not natural. But never mind her; Adam, Mark is here."
"I know that as well," confirmed Adam. "But I expected to find him in here
with you."
"He was until about half an hour ago. Then a bunch of guards came for
him. They said the 'Mistress' wanted to talk to him."
"You mean Mark is with Circe?" Adam's heart sank at the news and he could
feel a similar but stronger reaction from Dayle who was listening in to the
conversation telepathically. "Ok, we'll start by getting you out of here
and then see if we can do something about that barrier in your head that's
blocking your powers. Are you ready?"
"I suppose," said Paul, a little uncomfortable. Being a powerful teleporter
himself, he wasn't used to having to put himself in other people's hands,
but this time there was no alternative. He was relieved when it was over
and he was reunited with his friends on the other side of the door.
Paul's reaction to finding Dayle waiting with the others was openly
hostile. "Are you back to stay this time or are you just going to get
Mark's hopes up before you disappear again."
"I'm back for good this time Paul."
"You've no idea how much you hurt him. It nearly broke his heart when he
thought you were dead. Then when he found out you were still alive but you
didn't want anything to do with him, that was even worse."
"It wasn't like that Paul. I've never stopped loving Mark and knowing I've
hurt him so badly is tearing me apart. But Mark needs all our help
now. He's in terrible danger and we have to work together if we are to
stand even the remotest chance of getting him out of this. When it's all
over I hope and pray that he will be able to forgive what I've done to
him. But until then, please for Mark's sake, try and put aside the way you
feel about me."
Paul nodded. He knew Dayle was talking sense, Mark had to the number one
priority. Later there would be time for recriminations.
Dayle gave a small smile of thanks. "Let me see if I can get rid of your
block." He gently placed his hand on the side of Paul's face, his brow
furrowing in concentration. "It's no good," he said, after a few
seconds. "Circe must have put this barrier in there herself. I'm not strong
enough to break through it." For a moment he looked disappointed, then his
eyes brightened as an idea occurred to him. "Nathan, come here second."
The eleven year old moved shyly forwards.
"Put your hand next to mine," Dayle instructed the boy. "Good, now relax
and let me into your mind and I'll show you what I want you to do."
The others watched in nervous silence as the seconds passed. Suddenly Paul
gave a cry and staggered a little, putting his hand against the stone of
the wall for support. When he looked up however, he was smiling. "The
barriers gone, I can feel my powers are back." He grabbed Nathan in a
fierce hug and kissed him on the forehead causing the younger boy to blush
red.
Dayle looked a little awe-struck. He watched Nathan as he explained to the
others. "He's incredibly strong. In fact, his telepathic ability is even
stronger than mine was before I lost my Sentinel given powers. With
training and experience there's no telling what he could accomplish."
"Now let's go get Mark," said Paul, fully restored and ready for anything.
"Just one more thing." Dayle looked them all over and his tone was serious
as he spoke. "I was hoping to avoid a direct confrontation with Circe, but
now it seems as though we don't have that option. Apart from William and
Taylor, the rest of you have no idea of the sort of power we will be up
against. Thomas is probably as strong as the rest of us put together, but
he is all too aware of what a Sentinel can do and it looks like he's run
out on us, so it doesn't take a genius to work out that our chances of
pulling this off aren't good. Mark is the most important thing in my world
so I have no choice, I have to go ahead. But I wouldn't blame the rest of
you if you want to pull out."
Everyone spoke at once. The words they used were different, but the meaning
behind them was the same in each case; there was no way any of them were
going to drop out.
"Ok, ok, I get the message," said Dayle, holding up his hand. "What you
guys are offering goes well beyond friendship. I won't ever forget
this. Now, let's go show Circe that the Corps is more of a mouthful than
she can swallow."
Once again it was Adam who took the lead, following the mental map he had
extracted from the mind of the guard, earlier. This time though there was
no hurrying; they proceeded slowly and cautiously, listening for the
slightest sound, expecting trouble around every corner.
"This is it," whispered Adam. "The main hall is just around the next
corner."
Dayle nodded his thanks. "This is it then. I don't have much of a plan
except that if Circe is in there we hit her fast and hard. Don't hold back
because she's a woman or because you are afraid of hurting her; she's a
Sentinel, and that means she won't think twice about hurting you. Once
inside, spread out so that she can't focus on us all at the same time. Josh
and Chris, if there are any guards in there then you try and deal with
them. The rest of us go straight for Circe, except for you, Taylor. You try
and keep in the background unless someone gets hurt and even then don't
take any silly risks. Ready?"
There were nervous nods all around.
"Right, let's go." Dayle led the way as they dashed around the final
corner, through an open doorway and into the main hall.
However, once inside all plans of attack were immediately forgotten as the
Corps members skidded to a halt to stare at the three figures standing on
the raised platform at the far end of the hall. In the centre stood Circe,
proud, beautiful and supremely confident, a slight smile twitching at the
corners of her mouth as she watched the looks of confusion on the young
faces of the intruders. In front of Circe, on his knees but facing towards
his friends was Mark. The former base leader was naked but for a square of
cloth in front of his crotch, held in place by a cord around his slim
waist. His eyes were glazed and his hair was plastered to his head with
sweat. Beads of perspiration were running freely down his handsome features
and onto his heaving chest where it glistened in the light from the
torches.
"Mark, what has she done to you?" Dayle's lips formed the words but such
was his anguish at seeing the one he loved in obvious distress that hardly
any sound came out. The young telepath sent out a desperate mental probe in
an effort to get into Mark's head, only to come up against a wall as hard
as diamond. There was no way he could force his thought's through, he just
wasn't strong enough. Though perhaps there was still a chance. He sent a
tightly guarded message to one of his friends. "NATHAN, MARK'S
SHIELDED. SEE WHAT YOU CAN DO, BUT FOR PITY'S SAKE BE CAREFUL." Without
waiting for a reply he broke contact and turned his gaze to the third
person on the platform. "So this is where you disappeared to Thomas. Is
this the way you go about helping your friends, by betraying them?"
"I did what I thought was best Dayle. You know we would never have stood a
chance against a Sentinel."
Dayle opened his mouth to tell Thomas exactly what he thought of him, but
before he could speak, two words sounded in his mind. "TRUST ME". Just two
words, but the mental voice which delivered them carried conviction. What
exactly did Thomas mean? Had he a plan of his own? It seemed that under the
circumstances they had little choice in the matter so for a while at least
Dayle would play along and see in which direction things moved. Swallowing
what he had been about to say, he turned his attention back to Circe. "It
seems you were expecting us?"
The Sentinel gave an amused laugh. "Of course I was expecting you. Did you
really think you could enter my home and roam around freely without me
being instantly aware of your presence? You spent time with the Sentinels,
Dayle. Did that old fool Karl neglect your education to such an extent that
you are unaware of even the most basic things we are capable of? Also, I
notice you are no longer in possession of your enhanced abilities. That,
and the fact that you are in the company of outsiders can only mean that
you have forsworn your vows to us. Can you give an explanation for this
which will convince me to let you live?"
"I can only offer you Karl's words", Dayle replied. "All promises are
cancelled, all debts repaid."
"Ha, I don't find that very convincing. Karl must be going soft as well as
being senile. I must speak to my fellow Sentinels about this matter. If
Karl is letting sentiment interfere with his duties then maybe it is time
that he was a Sentinel no longer." She turned to Thomas. "Which are the two
you told me about?"
"Those two, the ones holding hands." Thomas indicated William and Taylor.
"Ah, yes. I can sense the abilities in them now." Circe's eyes had narrowed
as she studied the two boys. "And you say they can link their powers in
some way? That in itself will be worthy of further investigation. The
healer is powerful on his own, perhaps the most powerful I have ever come
across, but the two of them linked together would be able to supply
sufficient healing energy for me to stay young and beautiful forever."
Thomas cleared his throat. "You will remember our deal? We agreed that you
wouldn't drain their powers to the extent where they could be in any danger
and that once they've used their powers on you then they and the others,
including Mark, are free to go."
"Deal? Agreed? You put forward the deal, Thomas, but I made no
promises. Surely you cannot imagine that I am going to let this invasion of
my home go unpunished. Those two I will keep, also Mark; he has incredible
will power, see how even now his breathing is laboured from his battle
against my compulsion for him to love me. I find his struggles
amusing. Yes, I shall keep the three of them. The others are of no use and
will be disposed of."
"But..."
"Enough Thomas! I will hear no more of your pointless protestations. Would
you think to give orders to a Sentinel? If so then you will quickly find
that being one of Karl's favourites is no protection as far as Circe is
concerned."
Caught up in indecision, Thomas look helplessly from Circe to Dayle and
back again. A battle of divided loyalties played itself out in his mind. As
the battle reached its conclusion he drew himself up and faced the
Sentinel, eye to eye. "Dayle is my friend, I won't betray him. The others I
don't know, but they placed their trust in me and so I cannot and will not
betray them. I won't let you do this Circe."
"You won't let me?" Circe gave a delighted laugh. "So, it appears you have
balls after all. You constantly surprise me Thomas. Though I admit that I
have never liked you and so I cannot help but be pleased that your decision
allows me to remove you once and for all." Her eyes flashed fire as without
warning she use just a small sample of her vast telekinetic power to
constrict Thomas' windpipe.
With a choking sound, Thomas fell to his knees, his hands going to his
throat. As the pressure increased he fell forwards onto his face, his body
involuntarily thrashing around as he fought to breathe.
Before the stunned Corps members had time to react Nathan's mental voice
sounded in Dayle's mind. "I'VE BROKEN MARK'S SHIELD."
At the same moment, Mark's eyes lost their glazed look and took on the
sparkle of life. The nineteen year old healer swung his upper body in a
fluid motion and smashed his forearm into Circe's midriff.
For all her fantastic powers, Circe was still flesh and blood and as the
breath whooshed out of her lungs she doubled over and staggered
backwards. With Circe's concentration broken, Thomas found himself able to
breath once more and took immediate advantage of this respite by
teleporting himself away from the scene.
Seizing their momentary advantage, the Corps members came alive and pressed
their attack forcing the gasping sentinel to defend herself from both
physical and mental assault. The air around her crackled with electricity
as William drew in heat energy and converted it into a form better suited
to subdue his opponent. A heavy wooden chair flew through the air towards
her, seemingly of it's own volition though in reality propelled by Zac's
not inconsiderable telekinetic ability. Fortunately for Circe, she was not
without defences of her own and just before the chair made contact it
changed direction and hurtled into the wall with enough force to shatter it
into splinters. Circe was now crouched on her knees, her hands to her head
and a pained expression on her face as at least some of the telepathic
daggers thrown by Dayle, Adam and to a lesser extent the inexperienced
Nathan, penetrated to their target.
Alerted by the noise, two guards rushed into the hall, but paused,
obviously shaken by the sight of their invincible mistress on her
knees. The hesitation was to prove their downfall. Chris did not possess
the telekinetic strength of Zac or William, but he was still a force in his
own right. Well aimed telekinetic blows into the groins of both guards
felled them instantly and left them writhing in pain. Josh, not to be left
out, dashed forwards. Touching his hand to the head of one of the guards he
used a telepathic trick taught to him by Adam; the results were immediate
and the guard went out like a light. A second later the other guard
suffered the same fate. The two youngsters quickly congratulated each other
before turning to see how their friends were doing.
The scene remained unchanged. Circe was still on her knees, her once
beautiful face was now ugly with pain and anger and her golden hair hung in
disarray over her face and shoulders. Somehow she looked smaller, no longer
the proud, haughty sentinel, more an object of pity.
Suddenly everything went black as the hall was plunged into total and
impenetrable darkness.
For several long seconds there was complete silence. Then Dayle's voice cut
through the darkness. "Is everyone ok? William, any chance of some light?"
"I'll see what I can do?" William replied.
But before the prince could even begin to bring his energy powers into play
another sound became apparent. It started off so softly that it could have
almost have been imagination, a soft, musical laugh. But it rapidly grew in
strength and volume seeming not to come from any particular direction,
rather from every direction at once. The now not so confident Corps members
found themselves reaching out around them for their friends, craving the
reassurance of bodily contact. The laugh continued to get louder,
penetrating into their heads, their minds, even seeming to cut into their
souls. It was now so loud it was painful and the darkness seemed to pulse
with the sound as it echoed around the walls.
"Fools!" The single word came like a thunderclap and with the thunder came
lightening. From total darkness to a penetrating, dazzling brilliance in
the space of a millisecond. Circe stood in the centre of the raised
platform and the light seem to radiate out of her; a goddess unveiled,
terrible in her beauty, unrivalled in her power. "You pathetic children
dare to turn your puny powers on me? Let me show you what true power
means." In a dramatic gesture she lifted her arms away from her body in
smooth semicircles, her head went back and her eyes became hooded. There
was a low rumbling sound as the air around her seemed to solidify and then
a moment later hurtled outwards away from her with terrifying force. The
teenagers in its path never stood a chance. They were picked up like so
many twigs and leaves in an autumn wind, their crazy, uncontrolled flight
only coming to an end as they made contact with the all too solid walls.
Cries of pain sounded from around the hall, the results of a meeting of
human flesh and bone with unyielding stone. Taylor found himself lying next
to Paul, the latter having received a gash to the side of his head.
"Shit, I thought we had her beat," grumbled the teleporter. "Ouch!" he
grimaced as he delicately probed his head.
"Let me fix that for you," Taylor offered, putting out his hand, but Paul
pushed him away.
"I'll be ok. Don't waste your energy on me, some of the others may need
your help more." He pushed himself to his feet, wobbled a little then
turned his full attention on Circe. The Sentinel was watching them silently
as they slowly peeled themselves away from the walls.
William helped Zac to his feet. "You ok?"
"Yeah, I think so. Where's Nathan?"
"He's over there by the far wall. He doesn't look to be badly hurt,"
William replied. "Are you up to giving her a taste of her own medicine?"
"You bet I am. What exactly do you have in mind?"
William indicated the piles of debris that now littered the floor of the
hall and included some fair sized pieces of rock.
"I get the idea," Zac grinned. "Now?"
"Now," confirmed William.
A brief moment of concentration was all it took before the air was full of
flying rocks and stones, all moving in one direction. Circe didn't even
flinch. As the deadly hailstorm came within feet of her each fragment
stopped dead in its tracks, turned to powder and fell to the
ground. Seconds later all that remained of the barrage was a large pile of
sand at her feet. Her gaze swept the room, her expression cold. "Let there
be an end to it. Prepare to die."
Dayle's mental shout filled the air. "PAUL, ADAM, TAKE WHO YOU CAN AND GET
OUT OF HERE NOW."
"No one is leaving," Circe sneered. "It's too late for that." She lifted
her right arm, palm upwards. On her palm a glowing ball of pure energy
appeared and began to grow.
Taylor looked across at William and saw his own terror mirrored in the
prince's eyes. What can you say to the one you love when you know you are
about to die. There was so much he wanted to say but he couldn't find the
words. "I LOVE YOU." Three words said it all. William gave a sad smile and
held out his hand, even though they were too far apart too reach each
other.
As he put out his own hand, Taylor became aware of a shimmering in the air
not far from Circe and a figure materialised just yards from her. It was
Thomas.
Circe turned to face the returning apprentice Sentinel. "You've returned?
You're an even bigger fool than I thought Thomas. I will deal with you
first. These others can have the pleasure of watching you die."
Thomas didn't reply, but raised his own hand in a mirror of Circe and
created his own glowing ball of energy.
Circe gave an amused laugh. "A duel, Thomas? What a delightful idea. So be
it."
They faced each other for what seemed like an eternity, poised, each
concentrating completely on the other, watching for the slightest
movement. Physically Thomas had an the obvious advantage, but in this
contest physical prowess counted for nothing. Circe was surrounded by a
palpable aura of sheer power; a power Thomas could never a dream of
matching. Yet undaunted he stood his ground without even a flicker of fear
in his eyes.
"Die!" As the cry left Circe's lips, the ball of energy flew from her palm
straight towards her opponent. Thomas made as if to cast his own energy
ball at the one that was hurtling towards him but in the final split second
he changed the direction and his glowing sphere flew directly
upwards. Circe's ball struck Thomas full in the chest and the young man let
out a scream of agony as he was totally engulfed in white light. However
his pain was only to last a second as his own ball of energy hit the
ceiling and exploded. Tons of rock came crashing downwards, drowning out
further screams as both Thomas and the Circe were buried beneath the deadly
avalanche.
Being at the other end of the hall, the Corps members were spared the worst
of the downfall as they pressed themselves into the walls for shelter. Once
more the hall was plunged into darkness, punctuated by the sounds of
settling rock and groans from the survivors of the conflict. Seconds later
a dim light appeared courtesy of William. The boys began to help each other
to their feet, brushing off the worst of the dust.
Dayle walked towards the rock fall and there were tears in his eyes. At the
very last moment, before the ceiling had come down, Thomas' voice had
sounded in his mind. "FRIENDS?" Dayle kissed the tips of his fingers and
touched them gently to the rock. "Forever, Thomas. Friends forever."
Someone put their arm around his shoulders and glancing around he saw it
was Mark. His heart skipped a beat. This was the moment he had dreamed of
for so long, yet it was both bitter and sweet. He was at last reunited with
the person who meant more to him than anything, but in the process he had a
lost a friend. He looked up into Mark's eyes. "I doubted him Mark, I
thought he had betrayed us but I was wrong and now he's given his life for
us."
Mark didn't reply, he just pulled Dayle's face into his chest and hugged
him tightly.
It was several hours before everything was sorted out. Paul had to make a
number of jumps ferrying Corps members and Circe's guards back to the Corps
base, and of course there was Brian. The guards were given clothing and a
little money and released to take care of themselves. Brian, however, was
another matter; he was one of their own and he had turned against
them. There also remained the problem of how many other members of the
Corps Council were in league with the traitor. For the moment he was safely
locked away, and powerless as he was, he could do no further harm.
Taylor and Mark were kept busy healing a string of minor injuries, mostly
scrapes and bruises, except for Josh, who had received a broken arm and a
couple of cracked ribs when he had collided with the wall. Eventually
though all was taken care of and after a rather subdued meal together, the
weary teens retired to their respective rooms.
For Zac and Nathan it was the first chance they had had to be alone
together since Zac had revealed his love for the younger boy and as they
silently undressed there was a slight awkwardness between them. Zac was
first into bed and held up the bedclothes allowing Nathan to climb in
beside him and they lay there for a while side by side listening to each
others breathing.
"I never answered you," said Nathan, eventually.
"When?"
"Earlier on when you said you loved me. I hugged you but I didn't answer
you."
Zac suddenly had a sick, sinking feeling in his stomach. Nathan was about
to tell him that he didn't love him after all. He braced himself for the
bad news.
"I've always liked you Zac, right from the very first time I saw you. You
were always so happy and carefree, exactly the way I would like to be. Then
I gradually saw there was more to you than that; underneath you are sweet
and care about people in the same way that Taylor does. The things we did
together last night were really special for me, but I thought you were only
being nice to me because you felt sorry for me. After all, you're the
famous Zac Hanson, you can have almost anyone you want, why should you be
interested in me. Then later, as the drug that Brian had given me began to
wear off I found all I could think about was you and what hurt the most was
thinking that I might not see you again. When you appeared and told me that
you loved me I thought I was dreaming. I've never in my life been that
lucky. It had to be a dream. I have to know now, Zac, was I dreaming? Did
you really mean what you said?"
With a sigh of relief, Zac rolled over until he was across the youngster's
chest and kissed him gently on the lips. "I love you," he said, their
mouths just inches apart. "I love you so much it hurts. I don't want anyone
else, I only want you. I want to be near you all the time so that I can see
you and kiss you and touch you and...," he paused for a second and a wicked
grin crossed his face. "...and tickle you to death for even thinking that I
could love someone else." His hands found Nathan's ribs and soon the boy
was laughing hysterically as he wriggled to escape.
Eventually Zac decided Nathan had suffered enough, also he didn't want to
have to sleep in a wet bed so he thought he had better stop while the boy
still had control of his bladder. Nathan's giggling came to an abrupt halt
as Zac's lips once again found his. This time though it wasn't a momentary
brushing of lips, it was a sharing of the feelings that the two boys had
for each other and by the time they broke the kiss, neither was in any
doubt as to the strength of the bond that love had forged between them.
Zac rolled onto his side, his arm draped across Nathan's chest, enjoying
the velvety feel of his lover's skin against his own. He gradually became
aware that Nathan's breathing had slowed and become deeper as the boy
drifted off into sleep. He smiled to himself. Nathan considered himself
lucky to have Zac, but at this moment Zac considered himself the luckiest
person alive. Slowly he lapsed into a sound sleep of his own, secure in the
knowledge that the boy he loved was safe in his arms.
However, Nathan's own sleep was far from relaxed. His dreams were dark and
disturbed and constantly, at the edge of his subcouncious, he would catch
echoes of a sound that turned his blood to ice; a woman's haunting, musical
laugh.
END OF PART 6
Next, the tumultuous concluding installment of THE CORPS. Part 7: The Power
of a Sentinel
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